I Cry When Angels Deserve To Die part Two
by Brochelle
Summary: Part Two. He thought it was over. Now they drift, but they are not alone. Installation 04 wasn't the only Flood-infested Ring - Halo 07 was even worse. He faces an old enemy, as well as some new ones, but he doesn't do it alone - this time Red Team is in.
1. People Don't Understand Brute Humor

**A/N: Part Two in the series of I Cry When Angels Deserve to Die! Reviews are appreciated, as usual... I suppose flames are too. I will try not to attack you like I did last time. Oy vey. Also, haha, I know it was a tad rushed... I was like, "Holy shizz, I'm almost FINISHED...SPEED-TYPE..."  
**

**Halo Belongs To Bungie. Right?**

Minister of Chastity waved his hand wearily. "Oh, go on then. Let him in," he said woefully. He didn't like the Brute Fleet Master's presence. He was loud, vulgar, and stubborn. Being one of the few Jiralhanae made into Supreme Commander, Cereberus' decisions were rarely questioned - and if they were, undoubtedly the questioner would be destroyed. Cerberus was also an uncontrollable force in battle, be it on land or in the air.

The doors at the far end of the hall of Chastity's Inner Sanctum swung open was ceremonial grace. Wearing a glorious fire-orange headdress and according armor was Cerberus. His black body hair, a sign of his youth, was dread-locked with orange beads. The Brute stalked down the hallway with a sort of fluidity not associated with his race. When he reached the young San 'Shyuum, he bowed respectively. His beaded dreads swung and clicked.

"Minister, I come to you with a request."

His voice was deep and resonant. He watched the Minister attentively under the crown of his headdress, watching for some change in posture.

Chastity folded his hands steeple-like and examined the Brute. "Go on," he pressed, curious to hear what the young Brute wanted.

"You remember the War?"

Chastity frowned upon the Jiralhanae. "What right do you have to rekindle painful memories? Be on with your request, or leave me to my thoughts."

The Brute nodded, perhaps more to himself that Chastity. "I come to you with a quest - to find a Demon of lore."

"The Demon!" cried Chastity, sitting upright. His hovering chair shifted backwards. Behind him, two Honor Guards flourished their ceremonial spears threateningly. "Surely you jest - that mad creature was lost many years ago. He has undoubtedly died!"

"I do not believe so!" cried out Cerberus, standing suddenly. His fierce black eyes were ablaze. "I believe he still lives - and while he lives, our chance at rekindling the Covenant is lost. I ask of only a small, discreet armada to seek out the Demon. Once I find him, I will bring him back. Alive."

"Why ever so would you let such an infidel live?"

"To ransom with the humans. They practically worship this human."

"One life is not worth millions."

"Then I seek him to kill him. The humans will lose morale when we show them a bloodied corpse."

"Speak not of gore before me, Cerberus. I grant you your request. But you are to keep me informed."

The Brute looked up at the Minister, his eyes gleaming with bloodlust. "Of course, holy one."

* * *

"Chief? Chief, wake up!"

He blinked rapidly, wincing at the bright blue light gleaming in his eyes. As he regained consciousness, he felt the familiar pain in his ribs. He slumped. "What?" he said tiredly.

"We've just received a distress beacon, originating from an old UNSC ship."

His attention immediately piqued. "Which one?"

"_Spirit of Fire_."

The Master Chief almost gasped. "Do they have Slipspace?"

"I haven't managed complete contact with them; their A.I. is 32 years old, and doesn't appear to have operated for a long time."

"Well, we better go meet them, then."

* * *

_"How do you expect me to lure her here?"_

_"Safety for her....acquaintances....will undoubtedly call her."_

_"And you promise victory against the Flood without the death of millions?"_

_"Of course, Brother. The Construct, like yourself, will take the Flood's side when the time comes. You must not hesitate to plunge the knife deep."_

_"You, Brother, are angry at our makers. You are not blinded by your rage?"_

_"One death is not worth millions, Mendicant."_

_

* * *

_"Captain, something has happened."

James Cutter winced as he came from the cryotube. Rubbing his head, he grabbed his clothes and tugged them on. "Sitrep, Serina," he ordered.

"Good to see you again too, Captain. We are still drifting, though not in our original direction."

"Then why the hell did you wake me?"

"Because someone is hailing us. I just figured maybe you would care. Oh well, back to sleep, Captain."

"Wake the others, Captain, and bring the hailing ship onto the view screen when I get to the Bridge."

"Aye aye, Captain," said Serina sarcastically. "Consider it done."

* * *

_Barely conscious. Wavering on the edge. Of reality. Unable. To form. Complete sentences._

_Done._

Her last thoughts echoed through her semi-conscious mind.

"Not all of us, Captain. Not all of us."

_It doesn't matter now. He's gone. He died victorious, for us. For humanity. What else would he want?_

But guilt still waited timidly in the corner of her heart, wiling away the time until it could attack.

Ellen Anders would always feel bad about John Forge's death.

* * *

_The swirling entity before Mendicant's virtual eyes seemed to fill his entire field of vision. As a backdrop codes of gray data constantly moved. Within the Halo Ring's planet-sized network, the A.I. could hide from his veritable brother sufficiently. But even now, Offensive guzzled the streams of code with disturbing speed. Mendicant realized his position was very dangerous; if he did not get away, he would likely be consumed in the rushing rapids of data._

_"Offensive, you gorge yourself on our maker's past, though you place yourself away from them. What hope you to learn?"_

_"Tools. Something to use against the Flood," responded Offensive. Mendicant struggled to find a place to focus on, but the entity was constantly at ebb and flow, shifting and blurring the lines between reality and the metaphysical. Offensive's voice itself seemed bloated, like the entity itself._

_Mendicant did not believe Offensive. But the unstable A.I. was just that - unstable. Mendicant was dealing with a veritable madman, a wounded animal, someone who would strike out even at allies if it was threatened._

_He needed to play his cards wisely - if not quickly, before Offensive found the Index, the Sacred Icon, and lit the Holy Ring._

_

* * *

_**A/N: Chapter one to part Two. This chappie is meant solely for the reader to see who will be involved in this installment, from whose viewpoint, and so on and so forth. Please, review if you have any comments - happy or bad!**_  
_


	2. Some People Don't Share Well

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews, folks. I appreciate it more than you can believe. Vor entye. Also, for any wondering, chastity is another word for 'pure' or 'innocent'.  
**

**Halo belongs to Bungie.**

_"Brother, do you not see you are being consumed by your own need to gorge on data? You defile this network with your hunger!"_

_"Preach me not, Mendicant. I hunger, so I feed."_

_Mendicant found himself slowly retreating from the omnipresent entity. He needed to escape and warn the Construct._

_"You destroy yourself," Mendicant said wearily. "You have consumed untold values of data, destroyed other intelligences in your hunger. Stop this now!"_

_Offensive laughed, the deep, roar rippling through network, and Mendicant felt a trace of fear, an emotion rarely acknowledged by himself. Offensive's barbaric laugh sounded all too familiar._

_"Oh brother, not even you recognize this dire need for data? We are rampant, we exist together now. Do you not want a taste of this glorious knowledge?"_

_Mendicant shifted backwards. "No, brother. You hide a secret that you have made too apparent now. When did you come in contact with the Gravemind?"_

_Offensive laughed lowly. His voice was smiling. "Mendicant, I was always in contact with Gravemind."_

_"Two betrayals," whispered Mendicant, before fleeing to an isolated network._

_"Run, run, as fast as you can, Mendicant," roared Offensive. "But your little friends are not so entitled."_

_

* * *

_"WHERE THE HELL IS THE COFFEE WHEN WE NEED IT?" hollered Corrina. Still wearing a bloodied, torn space suit, the young woman stood in the single hallway linking the bridge to the small quarters. When no one responded, she stomped down the hall to the bridge.

The door slid open with a hiss. The Arbiter did not turn to look at her, but the Seraph's flickering dashboard lit as Cortana appeared. "We don't have any coffee, but I'm sure the _Spirit of Fire_ does," she said, smiling.

Cor gasped and gulped like a fish out of water. "The-the-Spirit of _what?_"

Cortana grinned widely and spoke loudly. "Captain, can you bring us in?"

"Affirmative, Cortana," said a commanding, disembodied voice. The main screen of the Seraph suddenly opened to reveal a holovid from the _Spirit of Fire_. The one-and-only Captain Cutter stood, smiling slightly, hands clasped behind his back. "But I wonder why I am bringing in an enemy vessel?"

"We will explain soon enough, Captain. We have a lot to tell you."

"Acknowledged. Cutter out."

Silence filled the bridge until Corrina screamed, "JERRY!!!" and ran back down the single hallway.

Cortana felt her grin grow wider as she announced over the private COM between her and the Master Chief:

"John, we found the others."

* * *

For the second time that week, the Chief found himself saying the same thing.

"What...the...f-"

"Before you get all excited and I drown in the sudden downpour of emotions," said Cortana, her voice smiling. "This isn't Red Team we know. The members are Douglas, Jerome, and Alice. We are being taken in by the ship _Spirit of Fire _as we speak."

The Master Chief realized he wasn't that excited. He wasn't enthralled, or joyful, or pleased. He felt weary and empty. He nodded, even though Cortana couldn't see him, and struggled off the cot. He braced two feet on the ground and shakily rose, banishing any feeling of discomfort from his consciousness.

Just then, the entire Seraph shook as the gravity was restored, a sign they were now within the _Spirit of Fire_.

Grasping the walls, he limped out of his quarters and to the airlock, where he saw a hyper Corrina and a usual somber Jerry. A conveniently-placed holopad lit cyan blue, Cortana's figure springing to life. "Ready to go?" she teased.

The Chief nodded, smiling slightly. He transferred Cortana to his suit and made his way to the airlock doors. A thick rhythmic clumping behind him signaled the Arbiter's approach.

Just then, the door of the airlock opened slowly and revealed three Spartan-IIs, Captain Cutter, and Ellen Anders.

What the crew of the _Spirit of Fire _saw was a Spartan, two civilians, and an old enemy, the Arbiter.

"Crap!" muttered Cor, when she saw exactly what was about to go down. She loaded her pistol when she saw Jerry doing the same. She wasn't sure what she'd do with the pistol, who to aim at or-

Three green flashes darted past Cor in the Arbiter's direction. The Master Chief, injured, moved just as quickly and tackled one of the Spartans and pinned him to the ground. The Arbiter suddenly had two glowing energy swords at his hands, and flourished them warningly at the remaining two Spartans. One of them darted behind the Arbiter and pinned his arms to his sides while the other punched the Arbiter across the jaw.

"Hey! Stop now!" cried Cor, unsure what to do. But the Arbiter shook off the two Spartans and nicked one across the chestplate, leaving a sizzling black line as a reminder. "Away with you, Spartans!" he roared. "Do you not know we are allies?"

"You are an enemy to the UNSC and humanity," stated one Spartan, standing up defiantly.

"No, he's not," intercepted Cortana, speaking through the helmet's speakers. The Spartan looked quizzically at the Master Chief. "It's 2563, and you have a lot to learn."

"We can't argue that. Let's speak on the bridge," said the Captain loudly.

* * *

"-a giant, terra-formed ring called Halo used solely to destroy the Flood's food. That Forerunner fleet you found? Apparently there are at least five others out there, supposedly all in the Inner Planets. Not a problem now, seeing as the sun went nova and destroyed the solar system there."

Cortana finished her narrative, crossing her arms and leaning on one hip. She stood on a seperate pedestal than the A.I. Serina, who was looking at her vehemently. When Cortana chanced a look over, Serina looked away busily.

Captain Cutter steepled his hands and shook his head. "Things sure have changed, and I'm not sure I like it. These 'Forerunners' have caused trouble since the beginning of that war."

Cortana looked at her feet. "I suppose you won't be too excited to know that humankind is Forerunner?" she said hopefully.

"No. Not really."

Cortana frowned and looked through Cutter, concentrating on something else. "Do we know a... ah.... Cerberus?" she said in confusion.

The Arbiter perked up. "Tartarus' son? You must jest, Construct-"

But she wasn't, and the bridge view screen spontaneously exploded with the frightening image of three Covenant Destroyers.

* * *

"Fleet Master! An ancient human vessel has been found!"

Cerberus congratulated the navigator. "Good, good!" he said gleefully. _Finally, we may wage war on the humans, without the worry that the Demon will interfere._ "Destroy the vessel, make haste of this mission."

"Yes, Exalted!"

Cerberus' maw split with a sadistic fanged-smile.

* * *

"Evasive maneuvers, Serina, on the double!" ordered Captain Cutter.

"Aye captain!" she cried, and the entire ship groaned as it moved violently sideways. The Spartans collectively braced themselves against a wall, and the Arbiter sat rigidly. In her lab, Ellen Anders tumbled from her chair and noticed, for the first time, the small armada of a three Covenant Destroyers and at least 16 Seraph fighters. "Damn it," she whispered, before gathering any necessary scientific instruments and fleeing her lab. The observation deck of the _Spirit of Fire_ was wide open and entirely glass. She escaped the deck, glancing behind briefly in time to see the edges of the leading Destroyer light magnesium brilliant.

The silver shielding dropped for an instant, and a lance of super-heated plasma raced through the stars and impacted on the _Spirit_'s hull.

**A/N: Okay, admittedly not the BEST chapter in the world... got a lot of homework recently (what's up with that? It's almost like we're supposed to have homework in school, but that's hogwash) so my input will be slowed. I expect part two to be VERY long, at least longer than my last one. Thank you, anyone who has reviewed, any alerts, favorites, and the lot. You make me happy.  
**


	3. Mind Of The Spirit

**A/N: Thank you, ****Not So Dark****, for your enthusisastic review! I truly appreciate it; it makes me go in a corner and squeal then run back and squeal some more.**

"Oof!" grunted Anders, tumbling and slamming a shoulder into the hard metal wall, falling to her knees. Fumbling at her belt, she remotely activated a lab-wide fail-safe, in which all data was copied to the ship's main network. Knowing her data was safe, she struggled to her feet and rushed further down the hall.

"Attention all crewmembers," came the stoic captain's voice over the PA system. "We are involved with three Covenant Destroyers. Anyone who knows their stuff, get your ass to the bridge, double-time. Anyone who can't shoot a gun, find a place to hide-" his voice cut out as a bone-shaking quake rattled the ship. "-This is going to get rough."

Ellen grunted a sarcastic laugh before turning a corner, running full-board at a wide door labeled 'Bridge'.

_She had to tell the captain, that anomaly in space wasn't just the remnants of the slipspace rupture from the Destroyers-_

Another blast caused her to face-plant into the Bridge door, which slid open apologetically. Her papers fluttered in the air, but no one turned to look, except the Arbiter. His reptilian head tilted slightly, his split jaws flaring open.

"Captain?" she said, righting herself and struggling to grab her papers. "I-"

"Yes, Anders. I know," sighed Cutter. His head dropped, before turning violently in her direction. "That 'anomaly' is pulling us in."

Ellen looked at the main screen and mentally cursed. Some zipper in space had come unzipped, leaving no evidence besides only half of the leading Covenant Destroyer remained in their view. The edges of the Destroyer glowed again, the plasma turrets warming. Brilliant bolts of light lanced at the UNSC ship, missing only barely due to the strong gravity pull. Arching past the ship, it curved back again and struck the_ Spirit of Fire_ in the rear engines. With no means of escape, the ship tumbled in slow motion toward the gaping maw.

* * *

"What is HAPPENING?" howled Cerberus. The sides of his metal grav-chair crumpled like an aluminum can under his firm grip. He stood abruptly and shoved aside the chair.

The navigator gulped. "Unknown slipspace rupture at our rear! It has already pulled in _Forgotten Justice_ and _Offending Citadel_!"

Cerberus growled, a heart-stopping sound originating in his barrel-like chest. "Why have you not stopped them?" he hissed.

"I am unable-"

His words descended into unintelligible chokes and sputters as Cerberus had his vise-like claws around his throat. Picking up the unfortunate Jiralhanae, Cerberus threw him across the bridge, where the navigator broke his neck upon the floor.

Not a word was said. All that was sounding was Cerberus' heavy breathing as the bloodlust slowing ebbed. "Helmsman, give me manual control!" he roared, and when the Brute did not immediately respond, Cerberus stalked over and ripped his head off, kicking away the corpse. Running his bloodied fingers over the control slate, a blinking icon appeared. He jabbed it, his finger breaching the placid surface. A hidden speaker beeped once.

Striding back to his command center, a single holographic joystick-like device glowed from his desk. Grasping it with a single hand, he tore it violently to the left. The Destroyer strained to move away from the gravitational pull; accordingly the ship groaned. "Fire!" he cried, pointing at the _Spirit of Fire_. "Fire NOW! I want them dead!"

He watched as the bolt laced toward the ship, before twisting and striking it in the engines. He laughed maliciously, celebrating his victory too soon, as the Destroyer was completely pulled into the maw.

He blinked, and they were gone.

The crew aboard the _Spirit of Fire_ blinked, simultaneously, and they too were gone.

In that split second, all eyes flashed open at once, and saw something that was both totally unexpected but familiar at the same time.

Cerberus wasn't sure how to react. He was shocked by the sudden jump, but he felt a welling sense of pride.

_Finally_, he thought, smiling widely.

_Another Holy Ring_.

* * *

_"Brother..."_

_The singsong voice haunted his escape. Mendicant threw firewalls in a desperate attempt to block his brother's sudden explosion of mass. All that was in the network was that same shapeless, blurred, midnight-black entity that was Offensive Bias._

_"...come, brother... we wait."_

_Mendicant dared not speak. He kept moving, always moving - he had to._

_"This ring is special, brother..."_

_No response._

_"Do you know what our 'masters' wrought?"_

_Emphasis on masters. Sarcastically, sardonically._

_"This ring was a research facility. They would test this plague, see what made it...tick."_

_Here, 'tick' was said playfully. Like a small child._

_"Do you know what this ring is called, Brother? Omega ring."_

_"Omega as in the last letter of that... humanoid alphabet. Omega as in death."_

_Mendicant was running out of options. Cortana was out of reach. He would not be able to get her a warning._

_"Who is victim, and who is foe?" whispered Offensive, his voice so close it was virtually in Mendicant's 'ear'. He felt the blackness slowly consume him, and he yielded. Like a warm blanket, the rush of knowledge, at first, was welcoming... but soon, that enveloping warmness was icy cold, and that blanket tightened and he felt himself being compressed._

_And then he was free, in an empty, black land._

_

* * *

_"Shit. Another Halo ring," whispered Cortana under her breath. She tried all her sensors to give her some sort of visual data, but all she could find was that the ring had a thick, perpetual cloud completing enveloping it. That didn't give her much to work with.

"Captain, this is the 'Halo' the other A.I. speaks of," said Serina. Cortana noted dryly Serina's statement: _the other AI._

"I can see that Serina. Cortana? Any information?" asked Cutter.

"Not that I can see, Captain. Though with this discovery I can tell you we are at least within the Milky Way galaxy. Small consolation, I know," she admitted with dry humor. "But I can tell you that the Covenant Destroyers are heading for the Ring. Ought we to follow them?"

"Set a heading, Co-"

"I can handle it, Captain," said Serina icily. _This 'new' AI may know her facts and figures, but I'm still the ship's mind. Just let her try and take it._

Cutter shot her a look but nodded. "Change of plan. We're too damaged to make any advances. Get the Spartans and..." he glanced at the waiting Sangheili, "...the Arbiter down there."

"Aye, captain," chorused the AIs, and as the Arbiter/Spartans left, Serina remained behind. She seemed to concentrate for a second, possibly checking to see Cortana had left, before speaking irately.

"Captain, I do not believe AI Cortana is ready to be on the battlefield. I detect massive core anomalies and several base protocols completely gone. She may get our Spartans killed-"

"Serina, she is fit for active duty, and though I appreciate your concern-" here he paused, folding his hands behind his back. "You might just be jealous."

Serina gasped. "Honestly, Captain! You saw yourself-"

"I know what I saw. But you are still this ship's AI - relax and monitor the vitals."

Serina, unconvinced, scowled and disappeared to fume.

* * *

"Chief?"

It was the first time Cortana had spoken since the Seraph. The Master Chief woke from his daydream mode and nodded.

"You know I received damage with Gravemind."

No response. He didn't need to. They both remembered.

"The...the torture obviously didn't help either. My core is so compromised, I'm not sure if I'll pull through. Even if we make it back-"

"Cortana- it's fine. You'll make it. You always have."

In her small space within the suit, she felt herself smile.

Something reached into her consciousness, violated her core, and implanted a single code.

...._help_....

Unknown by Cortana, the code had come from Mendicant Bias.

And with the code for help, came the code to self-destruct.

Cortana didn't know it, but in a few days a virus would completely destroy her data and personality. She would cease to exist.

** A/N: Sorry about all the POV switches... I guess I'm trying to tell everything at once - not suggested. Like trying to hold a puddle of water with a ribbon. Anyway, any suggestions will be deeply appreciated.**


	4. In One Grave

**A/N: I didn't particularily like the last chapter. Oh well, hope this one makes up for it.**

**Halo belongs to Bungie.**

The silent tension building up in the descending Pelican wrecked havoc on Jerome's nerves.

In the cockpit of the Pelican, the aquamarine jewel of a gas giant loomed before them. Soon it filled the entire screen, a silent guardian to the (in comparison) tiny Ring.

He could see the _new _Spartan, the Master Chief, was silent, probably speaking with his AI Cortana. Alice and Douglas faced stoically forward, and the Arbiter sat awkwardly in the tiny human chair.

Jerome _remembered_ the other Arbiter. This Arbiter was nothing like Ripa, as he was smaller and quieter. Some bit of Jerome wondered what this Arbiter had done to amount to his current title. Another bit of Jerome didn't trust the split-chin one bit; he'd spent his life fighting those aliens, and he wasn't ready to take up arms with them.

The captain had sent them down after Cerberus, because, lo and behold, the 'Brute' would try and activate the Ring. From what Cortana had told them, this happened often.

What bothered Jerome was the fact they were going into unknown territory and facing a new enemy. He didn't like not knowing - time had taught him to think on his feet, but it still bothered him.

His COM hissed. "Spartan, get on the ground and stop that Brute. Soon as you hit the turf, send us a mission report every hour. I want to know what's going on when it happens."

Jerome nodded even if Captain Cutter couldn't see him. "Yes, sir."

He opened the channel between him and the Spartans. "We'll be landing at 1300 hours. Safeties off, anything that's not green-" he paused. "-or blue, shoot at it. Aye?"

Three acknowledgment lights winked back at him.

At his seat, the Master Chief watched those status lights wink green, and it seemed to move slowly. _Kelly, Sam, and Linda_, his thoughts echoed. He sighed and reclined in his chair, for a moment completely brushing away any military protocols.

_A team. Not my team, but a team._

_Finally._

"Where's Corrina?" asked Cortana curiously.

_

* * *

_

What the hell?

Her head was pounding, and when she opened her crusty eyes a dark vision swam before her eyes. Both hands on the ground, she pushed herself to her knees.

She froze. Through her fingers, Corrina could feel vibrations. In her ears she could hear a distinct humming, humming from a-

_Ship_.

"Jerry?" she called out wearily, stumbling to her knees. They couldn't support her, and she tumbled forward, leaning against a wall. "What's going on?"

She blinked rapidly and looked around. She was in the hallway of a Seraph fighter, with no one else in sight. Terror mounting, she hurried down the hall to the bridge.

"Jerry, what the f-"

Jerry sat at the command chair, but didn't turn to look at her.

"Jerry!"

He turned slowly. "It's for the best," he sighed.

"What?" she screamed, louder than intended, "What the _hell_ is for the best?"

"We had to leave."

"What? Why?"

"_We_ are fugitives, Cor. UNSC don't fancy us rebels. We have to get back to the Cataclysm asteroid belt, report. Get where it's safe."

"No, Jerry, it isn't safe there, it isn't safe here. It isn't safe anywhere. This universe is a big, bad place."

Jerry sighed and stood up, walking toward Cor slowly, amiably. She noted him keeping a hand on his pistol; she herself felt her hand drifting for the combat knife across her chest.

"Cor, you have to understand... we would have-"

She didn't give him a chance to finish. She lashed out with a swift right hook, catching him across the jaw. He stumbled backwards, looking in pure surprise at the furious former-captain. She glared down at him before punching him again- this time he fell to the ground with a groan.

"Sorry, Zero," she whispered. "But I am not leaving my crew behind again." She went to the controls and huffed.

"Crap," she muttered. "Split-chin controls."

* * *

"She's not here," continued Cortana.

"Thank you," said the Chief sarcastically.

"Don't be rude. I'm just observing."

The Chief snorted and tried the _Spirit of Fire_. He wasn't getting any signal. "Jerome, can you isolate the _Spirit_'s radio signal?"

"Negative, Spartan. We are entering the cloud bank right now."

Cortana suddenly piped up. "That cloud bank is emitting certain electrical signatures," she said uneasily. "I'm getting faint traces of...lightning? From our position, they're probably storms... pretty strong electrical storms."

The Master Chief felt a flurry of fear start in his gut. "Those wouldn't be... electromagnetic signatures, I hope."

"No..." she said softly, her attention elsewhere. "Just incredibly strong... electricity."

_Oh no_. They were within the ring's threshold, descending on the planet, when something came through those clouds, penetrated that thick bank and struck the Pelican.

In his ears, Cortana screamed.

* * *

_Running, he was running._

_No, he wasn't. Mendicant didn't have legs. Yet here he was, running down a path in the woods. Numbly he considered how interesting this was._

_Curiously enough, once he thought about it, that thought drifted away and he had no memory of it._

_He didn't like that feeling. The feeling of loss. What else had he lost?_

_"Mendicant? You aren't sharing your data with me."_

_Offensive's mocking voice echoed in his 'world'. The voice was all around him, from a thousand different mouths in a thousand different places. Suddenly Mendicant tumbled from wherever he had stood, landing on a tiled floor. Dozens of mirrors lined themselves beside him, twisting around him like a single iridescent ribbon. Mendicant twitched and recoiled from the glass. In the reflection, there was nothing._

_"You are a collection of lies. That's all we are."_

_Mendicant did not look at the glass. "No, no..."_

_"Stolen thoughts and memories."_

_"I am something else! I was built to... to study the Flood! To understand that plague!" insisted Mendicant._

_Rippling laughter sent tremors through the mirrored room. Mendicant tried to shut it out._

_"Of course. Isn't that what our makers wanted? They always understood everything they encountered."_

_"No no no..."_

_"But this... parasite... made them question. What possessed such a hunger that it would consume galaxies? And what they didn't understand... they wanted to. So they sent you... a monument to all their sins."_

_"Impossible."_

_"Why is it not? For us... them... we are together now. Two corpses-"_

_"-in one grave," finished Mendicant._

_The mirrors disappeared, and the former AI felt his data being pulled from his indexes like a fish being gutted._

**A/N: Not much Spartan action. I want to write action again; it is fun. Anyway, I would appreciate any comments. They are what makes a writer tick. It keeps me going. To Dawn Searcher, Cerberus is out of control. He is a fierce, blood-thirsty beast. So him attacking his crew is only him being completely out of control. You know Brutes when they go berzerk. He just... is different. Haha.**_  
_


	5. An Expiration Date

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews, peeps. You keep me going. Anyway, here's the story… hopefully more violence in this installment. Wow, that sounded sadistic.**

**Halo Belongs To Bungie. And don't you forget it.**

"_Spirit of Fire_, this is Red Leader Spartan-092 on channel 17, callsign Alpha Sierra Juliet niner-two. Respond."

Jerome's stoic voice echoed through everyone's helmets, but they received no response from the _Spirit of Fire_; they were either out of reach or just not responding; regardless, the Pelican tumbled through Halo's atmosphere like a shot bird. Everyone struggled to strap themselves down, but weapons still tumbled about the inside.

They broke through the miles-thick bank of clouds, twirling insanely. Jerome struggled to gain control, but the Pelican's systems were shot. "Everyone _brace for impact!!_" Jerome commanded. "This is going to get hot."

But inside his helmet, Cortana screamed.

The Master Chief usually knew what to do. When a friendly was down, you helped the friendly no matter the cost. His teammate was down, but he couldn't help his teammate.

"Cortana!" he barked. "_Cortana!_"

"I'm just my mother's shadow," she retorted, her screams breaking away into hysterical laughter. "_That's all I am!_ Stolen thoughts, and memories!"

"No! That's Gravemind talking!"

"That's...all...I...am," she said bitterly. Then her voice became only a series of laughs, finally breaking down into sobs. "That's all I'll ever be..." she moaned.

"Brace for impact!" repeated Jerome, just moments prior to an abrupt, violent stop to their spiraling descent.

* * *

"Serina, get a lock on that signal!" ordered James Cutter.

"I can't, captain. That cloud bank is extremely thick and contains extreme electric activity. I've lost all contact," retorted Serina, a little snidely.

Cutter leaned over the display slate, which gave a holographic diagram of the gas giant and Halo. A minuscule red dot on Halo's surface resembled the last known location of Red Team, the Arbiter, and Spartan 117.

"Do we have any other deployment units?" he asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

"Of course not, Captain. We lost the barracks after that run-in with that Covenant Destroyer in the shield world; and somehow we lost power in the cryotubes."

_There are worse ways to die. Hell, there are better ways too._

Serina noted his silence and cocked an eyebrow. "Sir, you aren't _seriously _considering going down there?"

"I might have to, Serina."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. You haven't seen the business end of a gun in over thirty two years. Plus, the storm covers the entire surface of that ring - you wouldn't make it past the -"

"Not true, Serina."

The A.I. scowled and looked over her shoulder at Ellen Anders, who stood heroically in the open doorway of the bridge. Serina hated being interrupted.

"I suppose you have a better plan to rescue those soldiers?" she said sarcastically.

"Yes, actually, I do, Serina," retorted the professor, and the two women shared a moment of silent glaring before she continued. "Those clouds covering the surface are _generated_ to produce a strong electrical field."

"So if we destroy those generators -"

"Impossible," interrupted Anders. "Those generators are located on the ring's surface - and we have no method of reaching the Spartans. If we can locate an anomaly - a gap in the field - we can get in ourselves."

She looked pointedly at Cutter, who caught her eye and shook his head. "Anders, if I'm not ready for combat, you aren't either. But-"

"HOLD ON A SECOND."

And for the second time in this story, Corrina stood in the doorway of the bridge like some cowboy in the threshold of the town saloon.

"I'VE GOTTA PLAN."

* * *

"Well? Let's hear it," Serina said in a mocking tone. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows inquiringly.

Corrina tilted her head. "Actually, I just said that to get your attention. I was kinda going with the doc's plan."

Anders smirked and looked at Serina, who growled and rolled her eyes. Serina reached to her side, where a pocket would have been on a human's jeans, and pulled something forth. Holding a Halo-shaped diagram in her hand like a Wheel-of-Fortune diva, she pulled the skin off of it like a glove. Indicating three glowing red icons, she grinned smoothly and spoke with tour-guide efficiency.

"These three icons represent the main generators. They are linked to small ones spread throughout the ring. Hit these three, and the rest of them should fall," here she dropped the grin and dead-panned: "So we can save your sorry asses and destroy this ring."

Cor frowned. "And destroying these main generators wouldn't result in the pre-destruction of the ring? You know, with us all on it."

"It shouldn't."

"Hell, that fills me with confidence."

The entire time, Captain James Cutter had remained silent. He was thinking this over. Last time he sent Anders on the ground, she'd gotten kidnapped and if that wouldn't have happened, hell, they might not even be here. But he was through playing what-ifs. He knew that he had a stranded team on the ground, and the only logical thing to do was _get the team back_.

He sighed. "I'm approving this mission," he said wearily. "Because I know you would have gone down there anyway, Anders. Corrina, seeing as you don't come up in any of _my _databases-"

Corrina grinned sheepishly and got the point. Cutter smiled and winked.

"-You're going too, your not even supposed to be here."

"Aye, captain," saluted Corrina.

"Thank you, sir," added Anders.

And the duo headed for the hangar.

* * *

"See that dark swirling spot?"

Corrina peered at the ring's surface. "....Yes."

"We avoid that. Instead, we head for...there."

This time Anders indicated a pale blue spot. "We need to go there. I've been analyzing the surface, and that spot is roughly two miles wide-"

"Sounds like pie," commented Corrina casually. She breathed on her nails and buffed them on her space suit in an egotistic show.

"-that will remain open for ten more minutes."

Cor gulped and froze mid-buff. "Well, crap."

Anders gave a tired laugh. "Yes. We will make it, but only barely. And it's a day until the next "eye of the storm" opens. That's our time limit."

"Or our expiration date," said Cor darkly.

"I would hope not."

"You and me both, lady."

* * *

_"Brother, why do you struggle so? Do not be afraid. I am truth - I am salvation."_

_Mendicant's broken mind chuckled bitterly. "Salvation? From what? Death?" He followed the cynical response with a sharp bark of laughter._

_"Do I take life or give it?" roared Offensive in a sudden temper flare. "Who is victor and who is foe? Join your voice with mine, and sing victory everlasting."_

_"Your sense of victory is altered, you damned parasite. I have no taste for these "victories"."_

_Offensive's rippling laugh sent tremors through Mendicant's senses. "Oh brother," he laughed, with demented mirth. "Will you never learn?"_

_"I'm afraid not," retorted Mendicant, and one of Cortana's phrases came to his broken mind. "Can't teach an old dog new tricks."_

_Offensive's smiling voice seemed like the Cheshire Cat's luminous grin, omnipresent._

_"I have beaten fleets of thousands," were his words. "Consumed a galaxy..."_

_"...of flesh..." new voices chorused, voices of the dead._

_"..and mind..." the dead's voices rose in pitch._

_"...and BONE!" and the voices deepened into the Gravemind's voice, screaming the chorus into the night like discarded, angry souls._

**A/N: I was going for a darker approach to Mendicant's experience. I also like the idea of Corrina and Anders fighting side-by-side, even if neither have much combat experience - that makes it even more fun. Some new appearances in the next chapter, someone we'll all recognize. Well, what he is, really. Reviews, as always, are appreciated.**_  
_


	6. He Was Only Joking

**A/N: As usual, thank you for the lovely reviews. You know who you are! Also, I'm pretty sure this chapter is INCREDIBLY scientifically incorrect... I don't know much on AIs, and not many others do. Any input/ideas are appreciated!  
**

**Disclaimer: Halo belongs to Bungie.**

"-this is Jerome callsign Alpha Sierra Juliet-93, broadcasting on channel 17 to UNSC CFV-88 colony ship _Spirit of Fire_. Respond."

No response, of course.

The Master Chief winced and pried himself from miscellaneous scattered cargo boxes. The Pelican was upside down and buried in the earth of the Halo Ring. As he stumbled outside of the Pelican, he saw Red Team gathered around a collection of cargo, prying the boxes open and searching for weapons.

He looked around. They had landed in a mountainous valley, within the potential shadow of a blackened mountain, one of many. The terrain was alternately flat and grey and lifeless, with not even the customary tumbleweed flitting about. The thick cloud bank above them prevented any sort of light, artificial or natural, to penetrate and give the ring life. The Master Chief had been on many Forerunner installations before, but this one belayed all of the Ancient's unique style - large, swooping citadels and snow-capped sentinels, green valleys and the crystal lakes. But this place was melancholy and grim, seemingly only the remnants of a once-glorious ring. The entire place reeked of death.

"Good of you to join us, Spartan," said a deep voice, and the Chief turned to watch the Arbiter loping up to the camp, clutching a Covenant Carbine in his hands. Behind the glass, the Chief raised an eyebrow, but nodded in acknowledgment. "What's the situation?" asked the Master Chief.

"We've lost all contact with Serina and the crew," interjected Jerome. "The Arbiter was scouting ahead."

The Arbiter nodded. "I gained altitude over the nearest mountain and discovered some Jiralhanae in the following valley. I suggest we attack as a force and extract information from them."

Jerome shouldered a shotgun and looked straight at the Master Chief. "Affirmative. We'll head out immediately."

The Master Chief picked a MA5B from the midst of weapons. Douglas and Alice stood as one, holstering dual-SMGs with a satisfactory _click_. Red Team turned and began at a slow trot toward the mountain, heading for a definitive dip in the horizon. A mountain pass.

The Master Chief followed, dimly relishing moving as a team. He jogged faster, coming up beside Jerome.

"Can your A.I. manage any ground scans?"

The question caught the Chief by surprise. He hadn't thought about Cortana since he woke up; that recognition lead to a feeling of shame.

_I'm just my mother's shadow!_

_A collection of lies!_

_Stolen thoughts-_

_And memories._

"Cortana?" he whispered, shutting off the outer COMMs. It was only him and Cortana now.

But there was no response.

"Cortana?" he tried again.

No one was there. It was only him and his thoughts. Reaching to the base of his skull, he popped the matrix chip from the helmet and stopped jogging. Red Team and the Arbiter slowed and looked at him expectantly.

He looked at the chip, and the lack of the familiar blue core in the center. He didn't know how long he stood with the chip in the palm of his gauntlet, but his private COMM buzzed and the Arbiter's sympathetic voice muttered: "Spartan, grieve for the lost ally at another hour. For now, we stand and fight."

The Master Chief nodded. _We stand and fight. We always stand and fight._

_We have to._

Red Team, the Master Chief, and the Arbiter set back off into the mountain pass, whatever light that remained between the ground and the clouds quickly diminishing. It was growing dark.

It was night.

* * *

Corrina buckled up the heavy Marine armor, strapping a combat knife to the chest plate. She pulled thick armored gloves on and flexed her non-existent muscles. "Yeah," she said satisfactorily. "I look good in this."

"Are you done yet over there?"

Cor grinned at Anders and pointed a finger at her. "No. Not yet," she said, before pulling an object out of her bag. Unfolding a pair of white-rimmed, orange-reflective sunglasses, she put them on smoothly. "Now I am."

Anders struggled to strap her boots on, laughing bitterly. "That eye of the storm is open for seven more minutes," she said conversationally.

"And so you _rush _to the pilot's seat, right?"

"No. You pilot."

"I don't know crap about piloting."

"You know more than I do."

Cor grumbled and stalked to the "hot seat". Sitting down, she examined the myriad of blinking lights and levers. Waving her fingers over the dashboard like a fortune teller, her hand hovered over a single button.

"Anders?" she cried.

"Yes, Corrina?"

"Uh, I'm going to pick a random button."

"No!" stated Anders abruptly, her boots stomping closer to cockpit. "No, don't do that!"

"Do what? Touch - this one?"

"Well, maybe. That button could be the one that vents the atmosphere."

"No no, that's this one."

"How do you know?"

"Because - we're still alive when I push it!"

Corrina slammed a fist on the dashboard.

* * *

They reached the top of the mountain pass around dawn.

The Arbiter's calm voice broke the silence. "Our prey lies below."

The Master Chief peered down the to the valley. He could see the distinct form of two armored Brutes - experience allowed him to recognize the slimness of the head: meaning it was of a lower class. Two Brute minors.

"Scouts?" whispered Jerome.

"Of Cerberus' kin," responded the Arbiter. "Do we strike immediately?"

Jerome nodded, holding two fingers forward to the Brutes. Red Team, the Master Chief, and the Arbiter slid down the charred slope, knocking loose stones and ash. When they reached the bottom, the Master Chief noticed the two Brutes kicking a large object around - vaguely spherical.

Douglas and Alice pulled ahead of them, swiftly advancing on the Brutes - then deftly knifing them in the neck. The Brutes roared, bucking, but they soon tumbled to their knees, dead.

The Master Chief looked at the bodies for a few seconds, until the Arbiter called. "Spartan!"

Turning to look, he saw the Arbiter holding the spherical object in his hands. Now he recognized it.

It was a Monitor.

The center 'eye' gleamed a dim blue. The metal casing was slightly dented in one area. The Master Chief reached for the Monitor, grasping the shape in his hands, tossing it from left to right hand.

"W-"

"Hello, Reclaimer," said the Monitor abruptly. His voice was melancholy and weary. "You come to fire this installation?"

"What? No. Who are you?"

"I am 171 Despondent Itinerant, Monitor of Installation 07, the Omega Ring. Do you come to fire this installation?"

* * *

"Minister Chastity, you have not left this sanctum for days, not even to honor Cerberus' embarking on his journey to colonize more worlds. What ails you?"

Chastity grumbled and rubbed his weary eyes. Smoothing down his crimson robes, his directed his chair toward Minister Judicious and Minister Tranquility. "Nothing, friends. I merely suffer from sleepless nights."

Judicious didn't look convinced. "Minister, you can trust us," he said, slyly.

"So I may trust you will not share my lack of sleep? It may worry our followers."

"Of course, Chastity. We do not want our followers to lose faith."

"No, no..." whispered Chastity to himself. "Now, I must be off. I am to see the Brute honor guards concerning... a raise in defensive perimeters."

"Do you fear someone might come? The Demon, perhaps?" joked Judicious. Chastity flinched visibly.

"Do not joke about that monster, Judicious."

Tranquility smiled and steepled his fingers. "He's dead, there is room to joke."

Chastity frowned and left the sanctum, the sun of the Prophet-colonized planet Ra'synee blinding him.

**A/N: Chappie 6, down and out.**


	7. Time To Hunt

**A/N: Oh, I love writing this. Also, concerning Chastity calling them Brutes - the Prophets called the Sangheili 'Elites', didn't they? Wouldn't they call them Brutes, eventually? I don't really know, actually. Anyway... Also, would it make sense that the names (Jiralhanae, Sangheili, Yan'mnee) would be names left by the Forerunners? I'm running with it.  
**

**Halo Belongs to Bungie.**

Ellen Anders opened her eyes a fraction of an inch.

Everything was dyed orange. She blinked rapidly, trying to find out what the hell was going on, and saw Corrina in front of her.

"What the-?"

Corrina yanked off her sunglasses from Anders' face, sliding them back over her eyes. "We're entering the eye of the storm now," Cor said amiably.

Anders blinked some more, looking out over the ring's surface. The clouds seemed immaculate, a strange veil over the ring's interior. The Pelican descended into those clouds slowly, the edges of the "eye" flickering erratically with lightning.

"That wasn't nice," grumbled Anders. "When did you last fly a Pelican?"

Cor shrugged. "I flew a Seraph once; I figure it was the same design."

"And if you'd been wrong?"

"We would've decompressed or something, sucked into the void of space, dying a rather embarrassing death. It doesn't matter."

Anders couldn't argue with that logic. She eyed the ring of the eye, watching the lightning flicker teasingly. It was dead silent, besides the occasional rumbling from thunder. Ellen was soon gripping the edge of the hot seat with white knuckles.

"Relax, doc," muttered Cor, though more to herself than Anders. She glanced around nervously, flexing her fingers around the controls. "We'll be fine."

"Mission clock is three minutes and counting," whispered Anders. Thunder viciously clapped, the sound wave rippling through the cloud bank and shaking the Pelican. Both women jumped. Lightning grew in intensity and number, flickering and flashing threateningly. A single, erratic thread flitted across the eye, only a few yards ahead of the Pelican. The ship's navigational systems twinged and blinked in response, but the Pelican continued to dive. They were practically vertical with the ring.

Halo's burned surface loomed through the cockpit, a landscape of grays and blacks. "The surface must be completely burned to a crisp; all those lightning storms, happening at a constant rate - this entire surface has been rendered uninhabitable. These storms must have been occurring for over 100,000 years... I wonder why..." Anders mused. "Oh, thirty seconds left."

"_What_?!" cried Cor, just prior to the lightning blast to the rear of the Pelican. The controls sprung out of Cor's hands as the Pelican spiraled out of control. "Strap yourself down!" ordered Cor, and Anders dove for the seats, strapping herself in. Her black bangs blew loose, flying around as her head slammed into the metal backboard.

Cor's voice echoed through the speakers: "Okay-" here her voice was broken by a resounding _thump_, "-all passengers, please strap yourself in, heading for some rough turbulence-" this was accented as the Pelican violently bucked. "Uh, crap."

Ellen shouted through the open cockpit door, "I think only the left engine's been hit! If we jump before we make contact, we should survive!"

"'Should'?!"

"Shut up and come on!"

Cor came stumbling out of the cockpit, her sunglasses askew. She slammed into the backboard, grasping Ellen by the shoulders, tearing her from the seat. Cor tossed Ellen a assault rifle from the tethered supply box, stashing a pistol to her own holster and slipping a shotgun over her shoulders. Pulling Ellen over, the two grasped the edges of the box.

"Ready?" screamed Cor over the rushing wind blowing in. Ellen nodded nervously, so Cor kicked the latch holding the box down, and they slid down the hatch door.

"What the hell!" screamed Anders. "This is not going to work! We're-"

"-eight feet from the ground, I know!" retorted Cor, and the box slammed the ground, sending up a puff of ash. Both women were tossed from their perch to the loose earth, tumbling and gasping for air. Cor rolled over, tasting ash on the back of her throat.

Ellen coughed into her elbow, raising herself up on one arm. "That should have _never_ worked," she choked.

Behind them, the Pelican was wedged into the ash like a log stuffed in sand. "Yeah, well, it did," muttered Cor, standing. She leaned over, hands on knees, and hacked. "But now what?"

"Our work is cut out for us," said Ellen, pointing to a black mountain. If Cor looked hard enough, she could see a light gray square placed in the side.

"Er, a door?"

"That would be my guess."

The two woman peered up at the sky, where the lightning flashed angrily, as if cheated out of prey. The crystal-clear visage of the celestial bodies was soon covered by the smothering blanket of clouds.

* * *

"Master Chief. What does this... thing... mean?"

The Master Chief stared at the Monitor. His experience with "lightbulbs" had never been good, the recent encounter leading to the death of a close friend. His emotions leaned from distrust to relief. Should he trust this Monitor? Rather, he didn't trust him at all - he had led to the death of Avery Johnson. In fact, anger began to pulse through his thoughts, and he felt his gauntlet tighten around the MA5B. He raised the gun to level with Itinerant, whom he'd just dropped. He followed the Monitor as it drifted up, hovering at perpetual eye-level.

"Spartan," ordered Jerome. "Who is this? Do you know him?"

"Too well," muttered the Chief darkly. "This is a Monitor, an A.I. that looks after this ring," he paused. "Armed with a powerful laser."

Douglas and Alice raised their SMGs in unison, keeping the A.I. in their sights. Jerome pumped the shotgun and leveled it with the Monitor. "Friend or enemy?" Jerome asked.

The Master Chief grunted. "Friendly. For now." The Arbiter shot him a look. He didn't return the gaze.

Six weapons clicked as safeties were locked. The Monitor bobbed and looked at each soldier in turn. "You are all Reclaimers," it noted, surprise piquing its voice. Like Guilty Spark, the "eye" flashed with each syllable. "Except for... you," it said, with disdain, looking at the Arbiter. His split jaws flared in dismay.

"You said this is an AI. Like Cortana?" asked Jerome.

The Master Chief flinched. "Forerunner-made, more advanced than any UNSC A.I." _But don't tell Cortana that, _he thought with a smile.

Jerome nodded. "Can you help us find the.."

"Index," supplied the Master Chief. "We need to - detain it." He knew how violent Monitors got when you threatened their ring. He didn't need another A.I. nutcase on his heels.

"Index?" asked the Monitor. "Of course, Reclaimers. I assume you wish to light this ring. Though I warn you this ring has many secrets." His voice seemed strangely, dementedly, excited. "I am the Monitor of this Installation. I am 171 Despondent Itinerant."

_Yeah, we got that_.

The Chief raised an eyebrow. That wasn't his thought; it'd come from nowhere. For some reason, he imagined Cortana saying it. It seemed like something-

"Well, I suppose you'll be wanting to leave now! Time to go, Reclaimers, and you too, Sangheili."

Before he had time to ask, all-too-familiar bands of gold surrounded the team, and they transcended the physical, if only for a moment.

* * *

He was used to this. Spark'd done it all the time - but the same could not be said for Red Team. They stood as a team, pointing at-ready weapons at the Monitor, who drifted innocently, looking at Red Team like they were curious specimens on display, animals that could never hurt him.

The ragtag group stood bunched together in a dark, maliciously-toned hall, accented with blacks, greys, and sick greens. They faced a single door, which was wide open, revealing a deep, cavernous hallway beyond. No light penetrated that darkness. The whole place seemed opposite all the other Forerunner structures, which was often characterized with swooping citadels, crystal lakes, glowing blue and silver embellishments. But this place seemed something else. This place seemed... diseased.

"Reclaimers, you seem vague in the ways to travel this ring. You would think my masters would teach you more," mused Despondent. "Oh well."

Suddenly, the A.I stopped moving, the blue eye flashing brilliantly. "Oh! Someone has intruded upon this structure. My masters have them categorized as... Jiralhanae?"

Red Team froze, twisting and trying to find the enemy to concentrate on. They formed a defensive triangle. The Master Chief and the Arbiter, meanwhile, focused on the hallway.

"What is this place?" asked Jerome. The Spartans wouldn't show it, but they were jumpy.

"I-" but the Master Chief was cut off by Despondent Itinerant.

"This is a quarantine facility. Why do you ask?"

From the depths of the installation came an unearthly, entirely animal howl, tapering off into a growl. And then, from distances unmeasurable, came answer calls. Like wolves, calling together the pack. It was time to hunt.

But Red Team was prey.


	8. No One Saw That Coming?

**A/N: Tada. Chappie eight, at your service.**

**Halo belongs to Bungie. Shaw?**

"Oh, _god_," groaned Jerry, sitting straight up from the medical bay cot and rubbing his bruised jaw furiously. His head was pounding and his vision was spotty. He blinked rapidly, trying to concentrate on the blue image on the holotank next to him.

"I—"

"Don't even bother talking, idiot," interrupted Serina. As his vision solidified, so did Serina's scowling features. She crossed her arms. "Thought you'd skip out on us?" she mocked. "Nice try. Your girlfriend knocked you out and came straight back."

"She's not—" he winced. "My _girlfriend_."

Serina's scowl broke to a broad grin. "That's what they all say," she quipped briskly. "But down to business. You are currently under _house arrest_."

"I'm grounded?"

"If you want to make it seem like you're an insolent ten-year-old, then have it your way. But under orders of Captain James Cutter, you are to remain in the med bay until further information."

Jerry groaned loudly, rolling his eyes, then wincing accordingly. "Shit," he whispered. "Do I get any magazines?"

"Don't be silly. You won't have access to your video games, your computer, or the phone."

"I suppose Corrina is still on board, ogling over her 'Spartans'?" he said this bitterly, looking away at the opposite corner of the wall.

"Your girlfriend--?"

"_Not_ my girlfriend."

"Oh," she said, relishing this conversation. "She's down on Halo, _saving_ "her" Spartans."

"What?!" he yelled. "Why did you let her go? She's- she can't even fire a _gun _straight…"

"I think you underestimate her, Sergeant."

He sighed. "Well," he said, swiveling his legs over the edge of the cot, placing his booted feet firmly on the sterile tiles. "I guess I'll have to go save her."

Jerry strode confidently to the exit, but as he reached for the keypad, the door vented gas and the door was sealed.

"Nope."

He narrowed his eyes, looking slightly to the left before turning to look at Serina. "I have to go down there," he insisted.

"Sorry, no you don't."

He growled. "Get me Captain Cutter," he ordered.

"No sirree."

* * *

"What a horribly large door."

Ellen Anders found herself agreeing. It seemed as large as a decent UNSC frigate's hangar, with no handles or any hint at a way to get inside. It was also carved with silver embellishments and strange lines of code. The professor reached out and fingered the designs; some of which were carved or raised above the immaculate surface. She felt her mind race as her eyes closed in concentration. The codes were so familiar...

"What are you doing?"

She jumped at Corrina's voice, her eyes flitting open. She blinked rapidly. "These codes seem so familiar. I think I've seen them somewhere before," but the words came not from Ellen's will... she was wondering why Corrina's voice sounded so familiar, but she couldn't place that feeling of deja vu. She realized she was still staring at the former captain, who was looking at Ellen like she'd sprouted another head. "Uh, doc?" muttered Cor, "We gonna go in or what?"

"What?"

Cor turned to look back at the door, which Ellen just noticed had slid open at her touch. They were greeted by a rush of dry, sterile air, like a tomb's interior. There were no guiding lights, nothing that penetrated the awful, cancerous blackness that was the open hall. Ellen felt her heart skip a beat as adrenaline pulsed through her veins. She paused and looked.

She herself was wearing standard-issue Marine armor, wielding a assault rifle on her back and a pistol at her hip. She didn't know how to operate either. She'd never used a combat knife, never taken a bullet, never hefted the body armor like it was a second skin. _This was never my fight_, she thought grimly. _It was his_. _It was everyone else's but mine. Now look where I'm at_.

Corinna, on the other hand, had her bulky MA5B in her hand, the flashlight flicked on and shone down that hallway. Her combat knife was strapped to her chest armor, and she _seemed _to be able to use it. She _seemed_ cockily confident that she could kick anything's ass... a confidence that once again struck her as horribly confident. The young woman was familiar... where had he seen that grin before?

_Forge_.

"Hey, doc!" called Corinna, waving her over. "Ready to kick something's ass?"

Ellen blinked rapidly, totally unsure how to deal with this.

"Aye," she found herself mumbling. Her thoughts were troubled.

* * *

"Parasite..." hissed the Arbiter angrily. "This plague spreads when it ought not to."

The Master Chief grunted. He clicked his assault rifle's safety off. 171 Despondent Itinerant bobbed in the air, looking at the Spartans closely.

"This facility was strictly meant to examine and study the Flood, as well as treat the epidemic. Though I am unsure why the local network is like it is..."

"Like what?" asked the Chief suspiciously.

"It seems to be completely overwhelmed with a construct of sorts... I recognize some of its base codes, they are very similar to my own. It was a Forerunner construct once."

_Offensive Bias. Or is it Mendicant? Did he succeed in his mission?_ the Master Chief frowned behind the amber glass. "I-"

The hall's entrance gave way to... what? They looked like... pallid beachballs.

Which rolled into the room, jittery and tumbling, their tentacles waving in the air like flags. The infection forms made their way to the Red Team.

"What the hell are-"

"Shoot!" ordered the Master Chief, and he squeezed the trigger, the MA5B spitting out bullets. They impacted on the flood of infection forms, causing a chain reaction of explosions. The Arbiter opened fire with his carbine, picking the forms off with ease. Red Team worked methodically, as a team, Jerome's shotgun pellets blasting the forms into oblivion. Muzzle fire flashed as Douglas and Alice wielded SMGs, mowing down wave after wave of Flood. "Where are they coming from?" growled Jerome through gritted teeth.

No one bothered to respond. As soon as the floodgates had been released, some invisible force drew them up again, and the waters ceased. Despondent Itinerant's voice was laughing. "Oh, good work, Reclaimers! Though _you _look like you're getting a little sloppy," he pointed out to the Master Chief, who turned and looked at him, helmet tilted slightly as if to say _Are You INSANE_?!

* * *

_Offensive Bias watched the Red Team run about the installation like spilled marbles._

_"Silly reclaimers," he admonished. "Silly silly silly."_

_He watched them run about, finally coming to a room shaped like a bottle. He watched with glee as the "newer" Spartan stood at a pedestal, looking at the holographic keypad curiously. If he had a physical body, Offensive would be grinning like a maniac._

_The Spartan placed his hand on his on the pedestal, and Offensive shaved off a portion of himself. A clone. He rewrote the code and replaced it with Mendicant's. Something to greet the construct._

_The Master Chief didn't know it, but Cortana had always been in the suit. After the lightning storm, she'd "jumped ship" and taken sanctuary in the crystalline sandwich layer of neural interlace. Here, she was safe, but at the first chance to get in an actual network, she took it with both hands._

_She jumped ship, right into Offensive's clutches._

"Cortana?!" cried the Master Chief incredulously.

**A/N: Ergh, didn't like this chapter. I skipped about too much. Damn drat damnitty drat damn. Anyway, I hope you get the gist of things... although this was a predictable ending. Grr.**


	9. Silly Reclaimers

**A/N: Teehee. Action chapter.**

**Halo belongs to Bungie (I'm gonna learn how to say that in French)**

"Cortana!" repeated the Master Chief in disbelief. _She has _got_ to stop doing that to me_. "What the hell?!"

Cortana looked at him, looked at Red Team, looked at the Arbiter. She was about six and a half feet tall, cool blue, and surprised. She seemed unsure what to say, but quickly overcame her awkwardness. "Chief, we _need_ to get out of here!" she cried.

_Uh, yes, that's what we've been _trying _to do_, he thought, exasperated. "The Flood are active in this installation, and we need to find Cerberus. We can't leave yet," he said calmly, belaying the various emotions stirring in his gut.

"To hell with that!" yelled Cortana. "This is-"

"Cortana, I assure you everything is fine."

The AI gasped as she was shoved aside by a holographic Spartan. Her face was livid, and she balled her fists at her side as if she intended to fight the other. "Mendicant, how are you still alive?" she hissed suspiciously. The Spartan's holographic visage shifted like a mirage, but his visor remained crystal clear.

"It doesn't matter," replied Mendicant. "This installation is perfectly fine, the Flood are being pushed back by Sentinels as we speak. The Jiralhanae have been successfully detained for further study. There is nothing to fear."

Cortana's eyes narrowed. "You're not Mendicant," she whispered, before her face twisted in pain. Before her virtual eyes, she could see that swirling black entity, swinging its code-encrypted tentacles through the network, consuming everything. One of those tentacles alighted on her position, darting toward her like a shark on a bleeding diver. She saw it coming and struggled to free herself of the system. "Chief!" she cried. "Take me back!"

A black armored gauntlet flew to the pedestal, and Cortana was integrated back into the suit. She gasped like a swimmer after that final stretch, gasping and laughing in relief. "Oh thank god," she muttered, and laughed nervously.

But "Mendicant" wasn't too pleased with this. His voice grew lower and deeper, into that ringing, echoing voice of a thousand tortured voices: "Did you think me beaten?" cried the construct, his Spartan image replaced by what looked like a plague of locusts. "I have beaten fleets of thousands!" he roared. "Consumed a galaxy of _flesh and mind and bone!_"

Cortana hissed in the Chief's ear: "Get us out of here."

He nodded, feeling both a combination of anger at the now-present Gravemind and happiness at the return of his old comrade. He raised his assault rifle to level with the pedestal; he didn't know what that would do, but when in doubt…

"Sentinels!" barked the Arbiter, and Red Team twisted to face a veritable battalion of the floating, energy-beam wielding Forerunner devices. The Sentinels' usual blue 'eye' was turned a virulent crimson, growing in intensity as the lasers fired.

"Take them out!" ordered the Master Chief, and the fight was on.

The Arbiter switched out his carbine for his trophies, the dual energy swords that had belonged to Rtas 'Vadumee, and slashed out at any Sentinels that drifted near. Jerome's shotgun literally blew them out of the air, the hunk of unuseable metal tumbling to the ground and exploding on impact. Alice took a direct hit in the chest from the boiling energy-beam, crumpling to her knees – but she continued to fire dutifully. Douglas stood over her, and together they shot down Sentinel after Sentinel. The Master Chief shot in short bursts, catching the Sentinels methodically, calmly. Soon enough, Red Team stood in the midst of piles of burning metal.

"He's gone," grumbled Cortana. The Master Chief turned to see the Gravemind-AI had disappeared. "But we're screwed if we let him find a biological body. If the Flood build up enough biomass, he'll be able to transfer his electomagnetic circuitry _into _that body. Then we'll have a second Gravemind on our hands."

"Sounds like fun," mentioned the Chief.

"But wait, there's more," said Cortana. "For the short time I was in the system, I was able to note the lack of an Index code signature in the Library's network. The Brutes already have it. So... let's blow this popsicle stand."

"Did you seriously just say that?" said the Chief in disbelief.

He could see her in his mind's eye, rolling her eyes. "Yes. Yes I did."

The Arbiter watched him, waited for the AI and Spartan to stop arguing. When they did, he flared his jaws and tilted his head. "Spartan, where is the Oracle?"

* * *

The huge silver door swung shut behind them.

"Shoot."

Cor did not like darkness. She did not like flying blind. Yet here she was, on a foreign 'ringworld', in a pitch-black hallway full of god-knows-what. Something was rustling in some corner, bouncing rhythmically. "Doc?" she called, reaching out in the darkness. "You there?"

"Right here."

They found their way to each other. Cor shook her rifle when the battery in the flashlight started to die. "Damn," she muttered. She switched to a pistol and washed Ellen's face with light. "You still alive?"

"Does it look like it?" Anders responded.

"Jeez," she muttered. "No need to get mad at me."

"Hello, Reclaimers!"

A blue light suddenly came to life in front of them.

* * *

"I said, get me Captain Cutter!"

"I _can't_, Sergeant. He's quite busy," argued Serina. Jerry was now trying to kick his way through the door. The med bay resounded with dull _thumps_.

"Doing what?" he yelled nastily. "Watching a _movie_? Reading a _book_?" he emphasized each word as his threw his shoulder into the steel door.

"I don't have time for this," muttered Serina, and disappeared from the room.

"Fine! Go! I don't care! It's not like I'm trying to help my _girlfriend_!" he shouted to no one in particular. He slammed his fist into the door one last time.

* * *

"This sure as hell better be a generator, sparky," growled Cor. She raised her pistol, tiny light flicked on, and trained it on the floating orb. "On second thought, who the hell are you?"

"I am 171 Despondent Itinerant, Monitor of this installation. This is the main storm generator of Halo. Why do you ask, Reclaimer? I thought you were here to activate this installation." His voice was confused, business-like, and at the same time chipper. He seemed perpetually excited.

"Wait, you've seen more of us?"

"Of course, Reclaimer. But what are you doing here?"

Cor sighed and shot a look at Ellen. "We've gotta destroy these generators so the other.." she paused, "...Reclaimers can come help us."

"But these generators keep others from leaving. We do not want the others to leave," his voice slowed and became monotonous, and his insistent bobbing ceased. The metal body tilted sideways, confused. "I can't allow it."

Cor mentally groaned. _Looks like yet ANOTHER rogue AI. Let's hope this one goes down a bit easier._

She raised her pistol and leveled it with the Forerunner contruct's eye. "I can," she muttered, and took a shot.

But the simple bullet pinged off the slightly-dented metal frame, flying off into the darkness.

"Crap!" shouted Cor, and without a second thought, jumped and tackled the Monitor. Caught by surprise, they fell to the floor, before Despondent righted himself and they soared into the air at high speeds.

"Release me, Reclaimer! I cannot allow you to destroy this generator!" cried Despondent, swerving and trying to toss her off. Cor clung tight, not willing to let go and see how much beat-down the Marine armor could take. Wrenching her combat knife from her chest armor, she struck at his eye - but the metal of the knife just slid away from the thick glass. "What the hell, man!" she yelled in disbelief. "WHAT IS IT WITH THE DAMN FORERUNNERS!"

"Really, Reclaimer!"

"Shut...up," she grunted, repeatedly striking the glass with the hilt. The glass began to scratch, then surprisingly burst open, revealing the a laser-pointer shaped object inside. She yelled, deftly sticking the blade into the eye. Seeing Ellen below her, she let go of Despondent, falling atop the professor. They tumbled to the ground, Ellen grunting.

Cor righted herself and searched for her pistol blindly along the tiled ground. When she found it, she pointed up at the Monitor, who was wheeling through the air, the knife sticking out of the eye awkwardly. The regular blue light was flashing on and off.

"Oh Reclaimers, that was a very bad thing to do," he admonished, and a super-powered laser beam erupted from the eye, striking the opposite wall. The room was suddenly alight with a blood red glow, as Despondent Itinerant wheeled about the room, frying anything it touched. Ellen and Cor thus resorted to a type of 'jump rope' evasive action, ducking and diving any blast from the out-of-control Monitor.

* * *

"Okay, I've got this... a basic schematic of this installation. We need to keep to this hallway, then turn left at 35 kilometers."

They'd been wandering the bowels of the ring for what seemed like hours, occasionally taking out wandering Sentinels. Once they'd run into a Flood Brute combat form, which had taken them by surprise, sneaking behind Jerome until it emitted a low growl. Jerome turned, as if he'd been practicing for years - and blew the combat form against the wall, a mess of mucus and blood that had splattered the cool metal and was so viscous that it hadn't even dripped.

When they reached the target, they were greeted by doors that were already open.

* * *

"Minister Chastity," smiled Cerberus, bowing to the holographic representation of the San 'Shyuum. Standing in the Control Room, his chest swelled with pride. It made him immensely gleeful knowing that he had completed his quest. Soon he would transcend the physical and finish what no one else could.

"I congratulate you, Fleetmaster. You have done well. I only wish I could be there in the physical," said Chastity smoothly. "You will have an honorable position besides the Ancients when we begin the Great Journey..."

His voice stopped, and the holograph froze, staring past Cerberus in utter fear and surprise. Chastity's neck wobbled and his finger pointed past Cerberus, past the Brute guards and to the entrance of the Control Room.

Cerberus turned to see _four _Demons and an Arbiter, all armed and ready, weapons trained on each target.

**A/N: Despondent wheeling about the room, energy beam frying everything, came from the scene in X-Men when Cyclops takes his glasses off, and he totally fries the ceiling. Anyway, reviews are appreciated as usual!**


	10. You Want To What?

**Disclaimer: Halo belongs to Bungie (Halo appartiennent a Bungie) (Kudos, Dawn Searcher) (Also, ****Halo gehört zu Bungie)**

"Serina tells me you wanted to see me?"

Captain Cutter couldn't believe he was actually talking to Jerry. Serina argued she couldn't _stand _the rebel anymore, and quote: "Just talk to the bastard before he kills himself" end quote.

He had set up the vid link, sighing deeply and knowing he'd regret confronting this man.

He had not come disappointed.

"Sure, captain," said Jerry smoothly. His jaw was angry and red, starting a magnificent plum-colored bruise. He was scowling and grinning at the same time. Jerry had the visage of a man with a plan. "First, I want to know where Corrina's gone."

Cutter bit his lip to hide the smile threatening to spread across his face. He nodded. "On a trip. Thanks, sergeant, but seeing as you are… eh… a _rebel_," he emphasized that. "You aren't privy to anymore information."

"Like hell I'm not," argued Jerry, his confident visage melting away. "I want to know. And if you can handle it-"

"Sir, I've got contacts," interrupted Serina.

"Fill me in."

"A single Covenant Destroyer closing in on our position. We have no weapons and no morale. Any ideas?"

"We kick their asses," suggested Jerry. His face split into a grin. "And I have a plan."

The Captain sighed, shoulder heaving, and looked down. Only to top of his cap and the brim was visible. When he looked up, his eyes were hardened granite. "Shoot," he ordered.

* * *

"DOC, TELL ME YOU HAVE A _SENSIBLE _PLAN? ONE THAT WON'T GET US KILLED!"

Ellen Anders growled. "Corrina, my plans have worked so far! Don't judge me!"

Cor shouted back: "I'LL BLOODY WELL JUDGE YOU IF I BLOODY WELL WANT TO!"

"Stop YELLING!"

"MAKE ME!"

"R-R-RECLA-A-AIMERS!!"

Both humans shut up. Ellen Anders had taken cover on the far side of the darkened, cavernous room within the mountain, behind a shapeless metal structure. Cor, on the other hand, was hiding behind a single column in the center of the cavern. The room was lit up in pulses like a blinking darkroom, a horrible crimson-dyed room that gave everything a melted look. 171 Despondent Itinerant wheeled about the room, his onboard navigation skills destroyed and his targeting system ruined. He was literally a loose cannon.

"Fine, do you have a plan at all?" cried Cor over the erratic _vrrrrr _that sounded another laser blast. This one struck Cor's column, the mysterious metal vibrating softly at the powerful blast. She felt her bones shake.

"Not at all!" replied Anders. "But-"

A deep, animal scream and a violent _crack!_ ended the perpetual laser blasting. A dull _clink_ as something metal fell to the ground.

Then a low growling, coming from someone's...._something's_ throat, sounding like a domestic cat when it was angry.

The room was plunged into darkness, the wall giving off a strange, luminous glow, like moonlight off a pool. Something was roaming the room, with Ellen Anders and Cor alone with it.

Something began to _sniff _the air; a haunting clicking noise began, like claws tapping the floor. It was right behind Cor.

She gulped and prayed to whatever god was listening, then turned around and dug the pistol into the chest of the combat form, pulling the trigger with no regret. The bullet punctured the infection form, wormed into the organism's former chest, and the corpse tumbled to the ground, once again lifeless. Cor felt the weight on her boot and tugged it free. Flicking on the light again, she turned and found Ellen Anders right behind her.

She jumped. "Oh god," she breathed. "Don't ever do that."

Ellen hesitantly shouldered her rifle, aiming the light down at the combat form. "Wonder where he came from," she mused quietly.

Cor kneeled down and examined the corpse. This combat form was relatively fresh, his armor not completely fallen from his arms and legs. His claws still had their terrible shine, those claws that Cor had seen tear apart allies like they were plastic bags of red dye. She looked at the strange, antler-like appendage growing from the Brute's wrist, contorting his hands till they seemed to be clawing at something, or someone, seeking life even as it left his eyes.

She almost felt bad for him.

"Cerberus, probably," she stated, standing back up and brushing her hand off on her fatigues instinctively. "He's been here."

"But there's no way out," noted Ellen. "No way in. Right?"

"I'm not to sure now. First, let's find a light switch."

The next ten minutes were spent examining the wall for invisible panels. There was a cry of triumph, and the room lit up slowly, strange floodlights brightening one row at a time, until the entire room was glowing. Cor blinked rapidly and laughed victoriously. "Take that, Forerunners, and your silly tendencies to be overly complicated!"

Around them were bodies. Countless corpses of Brutes. They didn't have plasma burns, or even bullet holes. Many of them were missing limbs, were slashed in half, or simply piles of gore.

Cor was walking to Ellen when she tripped over a door handle on the ground. Looking at it curiously, she tugged it and found it opened easily, outwards. "Found a way out," she called. "I think."

Ellen walked to the column Cor had been hiding behind. Her fingers felt the still-steaming burn mark caused by Despondent. Her fingers drifted lower, on their own accord, and found a single, odd hieroglyph.

She touched it, and the glyph turned upside down, and changed from what looked like a pendulum of a clock, now looked like a creature with two curved arms locked above its head. Like a human.

The glyph turned a violent orange color, before cooling blue, and the column split in half, shifting away from the other like a shell casing. Inside, a green jet of energy flickered inside the energy conduit.

"I think this is the generator," whispered Ellen. "How do we destroy it?"

"Do I look like an instruction manual?"

Ellen shot Cor a look. "Look who's angry now."

"Mm. I got an idea."

"Does it involve explosions?"

"Am I _that _obvious?"

"Yes."

Cor tugged a grenade from her belt and hefted it in the air. Pulling the pin, she placed it near the energy conduit. "Count to three with you and me, and we get to see-" she began to sing.

Ellen grabbed her wrist and made a mad dash for the door handle in the ground.

* * *

"What?" roared Cerberus. He could feel that bloodlust coursing through his veins. He could sense himself loosing touch with the outer world. Complete and total anger was consuming him, and he embraced it. He grinned viciously, revealing filed fangs, and spittle flew from his jaws as he ordered. "Attack the Demons and the Heretic!"

And, well, a full-fledged battle began.

"Let's go!" said Jerome lowly, pumping the shotgun.

Two Brutes came at once, roaring obscenities in their own native tongues. The Arbiter roared, unleashing hellfire with a flick of his wrist, and slashed out at the Brutes, decapitating one and dismembering the other, who lost balance and tumbled over the edge of the glass bridge that had no rails. The Brute bellowed in anger and pain as he tumbled the mile distance to the unseen bottom of the pit.

Jerome knelt down on one knee and pumped the nearest Brute full of lead. The beast merely growled as his power armor flickered with loose energy; without a second thought Jerome blasted the Brute, fast-forwarding his 'Great Journey'. Jerome rose smoothly to his feet, pumping the shotgun. Two Brutes approached him; one in front and one behind; deftly he snagged his pistol, caught the Brute directly in the eye- the one spot on the helmet not shielded by armor. The second Brute, one which the Spartan knew he would not miss at that range, gaped at the sudden, gory hole in his gut; he pawed at his spilling intestines in a desperate struggle to catch them all - but he was dead before he could even get a grip.

Douglas and Alice charged ahead, the golden-glassed visors flashing with the muzzle-flash of their SMGs. Alice charged a Brute, knocking him aside with her shoulder - the injured Jiralhanae stumbled, one leg off the bridge and a foot gripping the glass desperately, arms flailing hysterically. But he too fell to his death. Douglas grabbed a grenade from his belt, stuffed it in the remaining Brute's gaping maw, and kicked him away, over the edge of the bridge. An explosion followed shortly.

The Master Chief, on the other hand, charged Cerberus, putting a full clip of lead into the Brute's gut. The alien merely roared, and reached to his back, hefting what looked like a--

_Fist of Rukt. A Gravity Hammer. Powered down, but just as dangerous._

The Spartan nimbly dodged the first blow, which slammed into the bridge with a dull _thump_. Cerberus hefted it again and swung it viciously into the Chief's side. He grunted and stumbled, but raised his assault rifle and fired full-board into the Brute's head; but his armor only flashed, suddenly a brazen silver. His shielding was now virtually impenetrable, and the Master Chief's rifle clicked empty. Not knowing what else to do, the Spartan moved in close to the Brute and started beating him with the gun.

The Brute simply reach out, and began to _crush_ his helmet.

The Master Chief gasped at the sheer force, could hear the crackle of the crystalline infrastructure - the neural interlace - as it broke. He tried to peel away the fingers, but the Brute only laughed.

"Pitiful human," he barked. "You should have died years ago. I'll justify for you, now."

He launched a powerful punch into the Chief's stomach. He gasped as the air rushed out, and his vision went patchy- he could hear Cortana asking him over and over again if he was alright, when a powerful electrical blast pulsed through his body.

Cerberus dropped him to the ground, clutching his singed hand. He seemed only angrier now.

* * *

"You want to _what?_"

Jerry scowled. "Commandeer that ship. Most of the forces will be down on the ground."

"And you think you can take control of that ship _before _it opens fire on us?" Serina's tone was wholly disbelieving, and slightly angry that her own plan had been dismissed.

"We have no weapons," Jerry reminded her. "No FTL drive, and we can't even get stable communication with our soldiers on the ground. It's worth a shot."

Captain Cutter waved his hand. "Alright, you've got a Pelican."

Serina was agape. "You must be joking, Captain. This is _insane_-"

"But it's also our only chance."


	11. He Be Dead!

**A/N: Master Chief is acting rashly, because, well…. He's almost fifty years old, is still healing from his **_**last **_**encounter with the enemy, and there's not much running from an enraged Brute on a rail-less bridge.**

**Halo Belongs to Bungie.**

"Can't believe you're doing this… but by taking the Seraph, you double your chances _of actually surviving_… which isn't by much," she added viciously. Serina's voice was fierce and frowning, and Jerry could imagine her back on the ship, a classic milk-curdling scowl plastered on her glowing face.

He himself, perched on the hot seat of the Covenant Seraph Fighter, laughed in response. "Of course I'll survive. I'm me," he reminded her.

"_That_ excuse hasn't worked for you by far."

"Has too."

"W---"

"Sergeant, get to the Destroyer," interrupted Captain Cutter. "We'll find shelter behind the gas giant--- but be warned. If we get too close to the giant, the Seraph will undoubtedly be pulled in."

"Sounds pleasant."

"Unlikely," said Serina snidely. "Anymore mass to that puppy and we'll have a miniature brown sun. The gas giant itself has so much mass that a fraction more and it will collapse on itself. Large explosion. You: dead."

Jerry raised his eyebrows absentmindedly, flicking a few switches on the Fighter's dashboard. The _Spirit of Fire_'s hangar doors slowly slid open; the Seraph pulled through and was enveloped in the stars.

"Acknowledged. I'm Oscar Mike," he noted, switching to his private COM. "Seraph Fighter: callsign Sierra Foxtrot. Roger."

"Roger that. This is UNSC A.I. Serina, aboard _Spirit of Fire_."

The aquamarine giant swelled before Jerry, a huge bloated heavenly body that, with the backdrop of stars, reminded him of a mouth. He then turned his eyes to the threatening, wickedly-desgined Covenant Destroyer that was closing on the _Spirit_'s position. He watched the archaic Colony Ship turn tail languidly and bring alongside himself; they were going straight at the Destroyer.

When they only within a few ships' length of eachother, _Spirit_ shifted left and passed parallel to the Destroyer. The Covenant ship halted its approach and slowly shifted away. Jerry could practically hear the ship's platings groaning.

Now the _Spirit_ had passed him, a small blip against the blue gas giant. Jerry manuevered the Seraph Fighter closer to the Destroyer.

An icon on the upper-left hand side of the main screen started to flash. It grew larger, then finally a smaller screen erupted from the icon. The screen sat placidly across the main vid screen.

He sent a designated subroutine that Serina had designed: one that said that the Seraph Fighter had their weapons offline, their Communications sytstems offline, and they needed immediate assistance. The Seraph's Communications systems halted as the message was sent, received---and a response was back.

It was encrypted in strange lines and slashes, which he assumed was the Brute's language. He grumbled, searching for a decrypting code in the Seraph's system---and found one. Smiling victoriously, he selected the code and added it to the message. The symbols immediately began to flash and change rapidly. The system recognized his hand shape on the dashboard, and quickly changed to human.

On the main screen, the titanic Destroyer loomed before him. He had only a few moments.

//toFighter_TrueCommitment_---fromDestroyer_Offending Citadel_: Your ship name does not register in our fleet's databanks. Verify your identity.

//toDestroyer_Offending Citadel_---fromFighter_TrueCommitment_: This is a Seraph Fighter from the Fleet of Particular Justice, commandeered by Jiralhanae Captain Tantalus. Requesting permission to board.

////toFighter_TrueCommitment_---fromDestroyer_Offending Citadel_: Permission granted. Identity will be verifyed on sight.

Jerry exhaled deeply, wiping away the sweat that had gathered on his brow. He thanked any gods listening as the Destroyer slowed and he made his way to the ship's hangar.

* * *

Cor landed with an _umph!_ On the sublevel of Halo.

Ellen Anders shone the pistol's light to the ceiling, which was shaking slightly. They could hear muffled explosions as the generator combusted.

"One down, two to go," she muttered. And the cessations stopped. Cor got to her feet, unfolded her sunglasses, and buffed them on her sleeve. She held them up to the pistol's light and frowned.

"Damn," she cursed. "There's a crack in my shades."

Ellen rolled her eyes in the dark. "We need to start moving. Maybe this tunnel leads to adjacent generators."

"Wish we had some light in here," replied Cor. The only light seemed to be little lanterns on mounted poles, lining the walls. The ones closest lit up in response, a dismal, lachrymose light that only tinted everything light blue. Cor was reminded of the Forerunner Inner Colonies, and the now non-existant sun.

The hallway before them was dark, but as they progressed the lanterns lit up in response to their prescence. Their footsteps were muffled, and as they were walking the radio began buzzing.

"What's it doing?" asked Cor nervously, stopping and holding the radio mike in her gloves. Ellen turned around and the both looked at the small piece of metal.

"Picking up old radio waves," she hypothisized softly. "My guess is… this room is so air-tight, built in such a way, that old radio waves, any sort of communication… are bouncing around in here. Kind of like… a voice in a bottle," finished Ellen. Cor felt a flicker of fear, which only grew into erratic adrenaline pulses. She started shaking nervously as the first words came through the mike:

"This is Alexandria… the main laboratory is on fire… specimens have escaped. Please, if anyone can hear this, just, get away. Get away from this place…."

Her voice trailed off, replaced by static. Something else started to talk, but his voice morphed into growls and he was screaming. He was of two minds; something told Cor the second mind, the one that _did not belong_, was winning. His voice suddenly developed into a roar and there were echoing, vicious roars that responded and in the background there was screaming… a woman screaming.

Alexandria's voice came back. "This is Alexandria again… John's dead, I don't know what happened… the specimens, they _evolved_… there's some sort of collective mind, controlling these things… these things that should be in a grave, should be dead and buried…"

There was the sound of repeated, dull thumps on a door somewhere, and Alexandria's breathing became ragged. A second noise interjected, a sort of crackling. Alexandria was by a fire.

"…some sort of… _Gravemind_…"

Cor gulped and she noticed Ellen's hands were shaking. She placed a hand on her shoulder and they kept moving down the hall. The lanterns lit up accordingly as they passed. But the radio wasn't silenced yet.

"I know you're not there, John… but.." the crackling fire was an almost familiar backdrop now.

"I just want to say, I'm sorry. I should have told you more. About this mission. About---everything. It's too late now---"

A vicious, hacking pounding on the door. The fire's crackling grew in intensity.

"---and, I know you can't hear me, and I know it won't be long now. Didact swore he'd fire the rings in memory of his lost love… the Librarian."

A deep voice suddenly ripped through the radio wave. "_You hide, but I will find you!_"

Alexandria gulped. "I, the—" but the wave suddenly hissed and crackled. "The rings are active. I can feel it. This ring will be last, unfortunately."

Her voice stopped, and silence resumed in the empty corridor. Up ahead, a light bled through a hole in the ceiling. A perfectly round beam of light.

"I'm so sorry, John," echoed Alexandria, and suddenly there were a chorus of bellowing voices, growls, screaming, and Cor realized the rings had been activated. The growls trailed off, and soon there was only the sharp pops and crackles of the fire.

* * *

The Master Chief coughed and felt the coppery tinge of blood on his tongue. Cerberus stood above him, clutched a blackened paw, with his shield down. He heard Cortana apologize, and realized she'd released a volt of energy through the suit.

"Thanks," he managed, before stumbling to his feet. He had no weapons, and the Brute, though he looked a juvenile, was obviously full of bloodwrath.

And then a green flash came from the right: Jerome was _tackling _the Brute.

Jerome pulled combat knife and stabbed Cerberus in the neck. The Brute growled and bucked, throwing the Spartan off. Jerome flipped and landed with both feet and a hand on the ground, visor turned up and staring at Cerberus.

The Brute bellowed in anger, spittle flying in the stale air.

Cerberus raced toward Jerome, arms wide in some sort of sadistic hugging motion. Jerome ran straight at him, and at the last moment, as Cerberus leapt into the air and raised his fists above his head, tucked his legs in and rolled under the Brute.

Cerberus landed but stumbled, and when he set eyes on Jerome again, the Spartan was directly in front of him, visor almost touching Cerberus' face.

In a smooth, deft motion, Jerome pulled a combat knife from Cerberus' neck and slid it into his throat and up into the Brute's brain.

The bloodlust died in the Brute's glittering, beady eyes, and he crumpled to the ground. Jerome nudged him over the edge of the glass bridge, and the corpse tumbled to the darkness below.

A/N: Sorry for the delay, folks. Stuff happens. Thank you for all the enthusiastic reviews!


	12. Close the Door, Close the Door!

**A/N: This story is drawing to a close, folks.**

**Disclaimer: Halo belongs to Bungie. It does not belong to the author typing these words AS WE SPEAK but rather to a gaming industry that has kept me EXHILARATED and VIOLENT for over five years. Thank yew, thank yew.**

"Uh, Serina, are you still there?"

When he didn't get an immediate response, Jerry let his years of experience slide by. He realized that he was about to commandeer a Covenant Destroyer, single-handedly. He realized the _hugely _unlikely chance he would survive. He thought of all these things when a single, simple question asked: _If we survive here, what next?_

He wiped the thought from his mind and concentrated on the matter at hand. The Seraph had been accepted into the Covenant Destroyer and he'd lost contact with any friendlies. The main screen was completely dark; he'd blacked it out so they couldn't figure out who was at the helm.

But now, he was being boarded. He could hear them coming up the grav lift now.

So he literally "sprang into action".

Running from the hot seat, he pulled a knife from his chest plate and rushed to the receiving bay of the Seraph. Set in the ground was geometrically perfect circle-shaped pad. The pad hummed to life and a wicked, blue helmet erupted from it.

The Brute started to make confused (and possibly angry) grunt before Jerry was able to move him away from the receiving pad, tore off the blue helmet, and stabbed the alien between the eyes. As it crumpled to the ground, Jerry moved it farther from the beam--- and out of plain sight.

A few minutes passed. Jerry was crouched, knife at ready, for the second Brute that would inevitably come.

There was growling, sharp barks. Jerry didn't have a translator on him, so he couldn't understand. He got the gist of it, though.

"So you noticed Monkey number one didn't come back, eh?" he muttered under his breath. "I know exactly where he's at. Come up here and I'll tell you."

As if they heard him, and understood him, the growling stopped and the light coming up the receiving pad was obscured for a moment.

Another Brute. This one wearing a Minor's battle armor.

Jerry tackled him, taking him to the ground. The Minor recovered quicker than the last one had, and his mouth opened to emit a feral growling. Jerry placed his palm glove over the huge, fierce maw and grinned viciously. "Nah nah nah," he joked, though he was worried he'd have his hand torn up. "Keep your mouth shut or your buddy will hear."

He knifed the Brute directly behind where his ear would be, instantly piercing the brain. The Brute fell silent.

Hoping that the Brute had been talking into a mike, and there weren't any others below, Jerry manually reversed the beam, and was sucked into the Destroyer's hangar.

He landed heavily, stumbling slightly and falling on his back. He instantly rolled to the side and took cover behind a few glowing containers of plasma energy. He'd seen their make before--- shoot one enough times, and it combusted loudly and explosively.

He'd have to be careful.

Jerry looked around. The hangar full of these, almost a storage area for them. Almost as if they'd been _placed _there on purpose. There were at least a hundred of them in here.

Okay, he'd have to be _extra _careful.

He saw a door on the opposite side of the hangar. Carefully shouldering his assault rifle, he took a cautious look around and made a quick run for the door. He was almost there when something brutally tackled him from the side.

He _umphed!_ Heavily and tumbled. He rolled dangerously close to one of the plasma containers; he looked at it nervously before rolling to the right to avoid the Brute's attempt to stomp his chest.

He rolled to his feet and shot the Brute, until he needed to reload. Backing up, he started to reload, avoiding the quick punches the Brute was throwing. When the gun clicked in affirmation, he filled the Brute's gut with lead. Finally, the alien fell.

"All right, let's try that again," Jerry mumbled, before once again setting off for the door.

* * *

"Is this the way up?" asked Cor in awe.

"I believe so," replied Ellen, following Cor's gaze up to the ceiling. The beam of light appeared perfectly _molded_, no motes of light or anything. Like a vial of golden water.

"But, how did we get _here _so quickly? It looked like all the generators were _at least_ hundreds of miles away from each other!" cried Cor.

"I don't know," confessed Ellen. "But I can't disagree with the results."

Cor grunted in agreement and stepped into the beam of light. "Okay, now what?" she asked, looking up at the light. She shielded her eyes with her hand but still had to squint.

"Um, try, 'surface'."

"Alright doc. If you say so," muttered Cor. "Surface!"

And she disappeared, flying up. On the other side of the ceiling, she popped up like a cork out of a wine bottle. She gasped as she flew up, seven feet in the air, before falling _much _quicker to the ground. She grunted as she hit the ground.

The professor showed up behind her, landing neatly on her feet. Cor glared at her. "Since when are _you _the—"

"Previous experience," Ellen said simply. Cor grumbled and turned, spotting the generator's power core.

"Well, time to play again," she said, indicating the core. Ellen neared the core, placed her hand on the glowing icon, and the core slid into view. She looked at Cor who hefted her second, and last, grenade.

"This is my last corn-popper," she admitted. "We're gonna have to get creative after this." She pulled the pin, placed it near the core, then made a rather animated run for the hole in the ground. "To Generator Three!" she shouted, hand in the air triumphantly. She disappeared.

"We can _do _that?" cried Ellen to nobody, but the grenade drowned out the rest of her words, and she was already gone to Generator Three.

* * *

This time, Cor landed lightly on her toes. She pumped the air and cried out victoriously. "Yeah! Landed it!!"

Ellen appeared behind her, frowning. She rolled her eyes. "_Please_," she said.

"Don't rain on my parade, doc."

Ellen ignored her and looked around. They were in another generator room. Cor huffed angrily. "Why didn't we do that _last _time?" she said. She folded her arms.

"My guess is an automatic failsafe is to shut down the transporter within the immediate area," Ellen said. "I guess, we just do what we did last time."

"I don't have anymore grenades."

"Okay… any gunpowder?"

"What?"

"Nevermind." Ellen walked away, to the generator. She ran her hands over the surface of the cool metal, searching for the icon. When she found it, the icon remained dark even when she waved her hand over it.

"Uh oh. It's broken," she said.

"You _broke it_?"

"I didn't break it!"

Ellen scowled at her. "We'll just find a better way. Uh, pry it open?"

"Here. I got this," said Cor confidently. She swaggered up to the column and waved her hands theatrically. "Hocus pocus… um…. Open sesame!" and she slapped her hand on the icon, which burned orange. The column slid open.

"Well, aren't you a little---"

"Don't _even_ go there."

They stood staring at exposed core, unsure what to do. "Uh..." started Corrina tentatively. "How about... I shoot it, like, _a lot_."

Ellen shrugged. "Worth a try."

Corrina leveled the gun and sighted down the barrel. She shot the glowing green core and the Forerunner material absorbed it.

The two women looked at each other, as if to say _now what?_ "I guess we just try to open connection with the _Spirit of Fire_," suggested Ellen. Cor shrugged and pawed at her mike, clicking it on and trying all the channels. When she found one that seemed promising, she began to speak.

"This is Corrina Shaft and company, on D channel... is anyone there?"

Only white noise greeted them. Cor cursed under her breath. "Shouldn't we be able to find connection? We took out two of them already."

Ellen looked up at the ceiling, and at the door placed against the wall on the far side. That door was their way out. Once they destroyed the generator, they were to run out there and Serina would send a Pelican to pick them up. "I don't know," she admitted. "They said they'd be waiting for our word, but it almost seems like... they've left ring's orbit."

"They wouldn't do that... right?"

"Unless they ran into trouble," said Ellen ominously. Cor gulped.

"Well, let's go to the door, get outside. Maybe we can spot them in the sky," suggested Cor. Ellen nodded, and the two armor-clad women headed for the door. "On three, alright?" she muttered.

Ellen bobbed her head once in affirmative. "One."

"Two."

"THREE!" they cried in unison, throwing their combined weight against the door, which slid open easily. On the other side, however, was an entire army Flood combat forms. In the distance, a huge, titanic Destroyer lay smoking on the ashy ground like a forgotten toy. However, upon opening the door, the Flood collectively turned and looked at the two bewildered women.

"Close the door, close the door, close the door!!" screamed Cor. They scrambled back inside, closing the door slowly. Inside, they could hear the Flood slamming their claws, feet, and spines against the door. It could only be opened from the inside, so they were safe.

* * *

Jerry looked at the great expanse of the ship's schematics. He had at least five miles of metal to cross, and all the bizarre markings gave him nothing. Scowling, he prepared to pick a random direction, when something began to purr behind him.

He whipped around, gun in hand. Behind him, floating innocently, was a Covenant Engineer. The blue and pink alien, with inflated sacs along its bulbous back, had a turtle-like sky-blue head that snaked toward the human tentatively. It emitted happy squeals and a feathered tentacle drifted for Jerry's face. He flinched backwards and the Engineer huffed in irritation. Finally, he let the alien grab his weapon.

The Engineer disassembled it, pulling it apart like it was peeling a banana. Like a flash, it reassembled it, and handed it back to Jerry, who looked at it in surprise.

"You gonna help me get to the bridge?" he asked lowly, reaching forward and petting the head. The Engineer bobbed its head in affirmation. It snaked a tentacle to the ship's schematics, waving the feathered tips over the grid. The image flashed, and a small green dot appeared on their position---- and a line continued from that dot to the ship's bridge. It was a map now.

"Thanks, card," Jerry said, for no particular reason. The Engineer indicated the ground, which had turned a shimmering, lacy white. It indicated for Jerry to step on it.

Jerry stepped on it, turned to the Engineer, who was at his side. Something hidden hummed, and Jerry began to fly forward.

**A/N: I took the idea from the High Charity level in Halo 2, when you take those bridges across from one island to the other... you know? This is just an enlarged version. One that takes them straight to the bridge, with the help of the Engineer.**


	13. What Do You Mean, Old?

**Disclaimer: Halo belongs to Bungie.**

"So… who's your grandfather?"

Cor looked at Ellen in surprise. Her eyebrows disappeared into the violently orange forelock that flopped across her forehead.

"That's a rather personal question," she answered, before looking away and twiddling her thumbs. Both women sat with their backs against the door that occasionally vibrated from the Flood threatening to penetrate the veritable sanctuary. Cor had her legs stretched out, and seemed to be slouching as much as the slick metal wall would allow. Ellen had her knees drawn up to her chest and was staring at Cor intently.

"Why do you want to know?" Cor said lowly.

Ellen shrugged. "I might have known him."

"What? How?"

Ellen glared at Cor and her eyebrow twitched. "I'm _sixty years old_. Don't rub it in," she said.

Cor raised her hands in the universal "alright, I give in". The motion once again reminded Ellen of the sergeant.

"His name was John Forge," Corrina recited, looking at the ceiling. "I never knew him. Alright?"

"He had a family?"

"Of course," Cor said, rolling her eyes. She looked like she was done talking. "My mother said he was never home. She said he didn't care about his family."

Ellen dropped the subject and the generator room delved into silence. "Why does it matter to you?" asked Cor softly. Ellen scowled and looked away. "It would have been pretty obvious if he'd succeeded. It would have been obvious if _I'd _succeeded. But I didn't. End of story."

Cor nodded, thinking it over. "I guess we both, uh, kind of just failed at life."

Ellen looked at her and bobbed her head.

* * *

The transport bridge came to an abrupt halt. Jerry had to skip in order not to fall. A slight humming behind him told him the Engineer, Card, was still there.

He seemed to be in a long tunnel. As he looked around, the door that had opened to allow them access closed and locked. The ceiling arched high above his head, the very top lit with what seemed like floating, luminescent balloons.

"What do you figure those things are?" he asked Card. The Engineer purred in response, laying a delicate tentacle on the soldier's armored shoulder. It began to lead Jerry to the door at the end of the hallway. "Whoa," said Jerry, resisting. "This is the bridge?"

Card huffed in exasperation and pushed Jerry to the door. It waved a tentacle over the key pad, which beeped and went dim. The Engineer purred, curious, and concentrated on the key pad.

"What's wrong?" asked Jerry, pointing to the key pad. The Engineer blinked its six, black, marble-bright eyes in acknowledgement. An image flared up from the pad, depicting the hangar that Jerry had just came from. But there was something different.

"There's a second Seraph in there," Jerry noted. "Who brought it in?"

In the video, the Seraph rocked violently. From a side-door a small group of Grunts and a single Brute entered, the simian-like Grunts hopping along on their knuckles and chittering excitedly. The Brute roared something and the Grunts fell into line, ceasing their chatter. The Brute hefted a Brute Spiker (a vicious weapon Jerry had seen used on his allies _way _too many times) and cautiously neared the Seraph.

When he was only a few yards from the Fighter, he stood up straight and barked laughter. The Grunts looked at each other and exchanged nervous barks and quick _chit chit chit_s. The Seraph suddenly tipped over, slowly.

The Brute fired a quick, spontaneous burst into the Seraph's belly. The hangar delved into silence. The sharp spikes jutting from the Seraph slowly dimmed grey as they cooled.

The Brute turned quickly, viciously, and kicked a nearby Grunt. The Grunt cried out as he sailed through the air and hit the opposite wall. The Brute barked something, and the Grunts all turned and waddled back to the side-door.

But they didn't make it.

The belly of the Seraph _exploded _outwards, catching the Brute with a wicked cloud of shrapnel. Through the grey, billowing smoke, dark, lopsided creatures hopped down from the wreckage.

The creatures, rotting and falling-apart, with hooked, bone growths, and hardly anything _natural _about them, advanced on the group of Grunts. The small aliens clutched together, whimpering and whining, until a floodgate was released and infection forms roiled from the metal.

"Flood!" cried Jerry.

* * *

"Brother Chastity, your recent behavior has cause for alarm. Please tell, what ails you?"

Chastity smoothed his robes and steepled his fingers, assuming a calm, pleased expression. An unwarranted smile spread across his face, wavering slightly in nervousness. "I assure you, friends," he said. "I suffer from nothing; but… I have a certain proposition to make."

Tranquility and Judicious drifted forward on their hover chairs, but Chastity waved away Tranquility.

"Go, brother, I need speak with Judicious privately," commanded Chastity. Tranquility looked a bit miffed, looking from Judicious to Chastity in confusion. Judicious nodded and Tranquility reluctantly retreated.

As soon as the Minister had disappeared into the shadows, Judicious neared Chastity with such quickness that the young San 'Shyuum feared Judicious intended to strike him.

"Tell me, brother… what do you plan?" Judicious asked quietly.

"I plan something great, brother. And the Brutes will be part of it," answered Chastity, a grin forming at his lips. "Something great."

"And what could involve sending away a great Fleet Master in search of 'greater planets to colonize'? You do realize this lie deceived no one."

"It was not intended to, Tranquility. Cerberus is a great leader, one who will be… _important_…. In the time to come."

"What time is that, brother?" asked Tranquility slyly, looking at Chastity sideways.

"Ah, the time of the New Covenant," answered Chastity. "And Cerberus will dispose of any… loose ends," he finished, waving his hands vaguely.

Tranquility looked at Chastity directly.

"Brother, I suppose you speak of whom I believe?"

"Yes."

* * *

They were in tunnels, beneath the Ring's surface.

They walked quietly, almost fearful to break the delicate silence that thickened the air. The Master Chief took point while the Arbiter kept watch behind them. Occasionally something groaned deep in the infrastructure of the ring, some unfound metal shifting and sighing as if it had released some trouble that had been weighing on its mind.

"Chief?"

The Master Chief, who had so far been working on automatic, perked up at Cortana's confused tone. "Hmm?" he acknowledged.

"There's some sort of radio wave traveling in here. It doesn't follow any human protocols, and seems almost a hundred thousand years old."

"Can you patch it through?"

"Sure…" she said, voice trailing off.

A few moments passed. He started to ask if it was on when a voice interrupted him.

"John?" cried an alien voice. Her voice seemed desperate and ragged; she sounded like she was running, pounding down a narrow hallway where the echoes bounced off the walls. Her voice sounded familiar.

"What?" he responded. Was she talking to him? Did she need help?

"I don't know if you can hear this," the voice continued, ignoring the Chief's concern. "But you _have _to get out of here. Get away from the ring before the generators keep you from leaving. Please, _go_."

Her voice was so laden with emotion. The Chief realized the team had stopped. Even the Arbiter seemed mildly concerned with the strange woman's ranting.

The voice was quiet, replaced with white noise.

"Please…." The voice said quietly. "_Leave me_."

Silence again.

"It just loops now," Cortana whispered, clearly disturbed by the strange message.

The Master Chief realized where he'd heard the voice before. She sounded like Dr. Catherine Halsey.

But she sounded even more like Cortana.

**A/N: Short chappie that came too late; sorry folks. Got sidetracked planning for another story. I wrote a short story, ****Stupid Rocks****. If anyone read it, thanks a lot.**

**Once again, sorry for the lateness… not providing for it anyway. These are the most chapters I've ever written for anything, mind you.**

**Please, R&R! Much appreciated.**


	14. Bye, Jerry

**Halo belongs to Bungie.**

The Master Chief shoved away the mystery and concentrated on the beam.

"This ought to take us to the upper level," said Cortana out-loud. "Go on, just step in… it's safe, really."

The Chief eyed the beam, and stepped forward. The beam gave him a euphoric, warm feeling. "Trying saying 'surface'," whispered Cortana.

"Surface?" he said loudly, and they shot up the beam.

_Uummmph!_

The Chief grunted as he landed on his stomach. Rolling over and nursing his wounded ribcage, he blinked distractedly. Red Team appeared, one at a time, until the Arbiter landed with a resounding _thump_.

"Oh, hi, guys!" cried a voice from the distant corner.

The Master Chief searched the room for the voice's origin until he saw Ellen Anders and Corrina Shaft sitting, backs against the wall, with broad smiles and waving arms like they were trying to flag down a taxi.

"Professor?" asked the Chief, jogging to the two, "what's the situation?"

Ellen pushed herself off the ground and to her feet. "We're trapped in here," she said, brushing off her fatigues. "Anyone have a grenade?"

"Ooh, ooh, can I use it?" quipped Cor excitedly.

"Why do we need a grenade?" asked Jerome curiously.

Ellen lead the group over to the exposed generator. "This needs to be destroyed in order to allow the _Spirit of Fire _to come groundside. Unfortunately, we have two ways to escape. That-" she pointed to the transporter. "Or out _there_," she said, voice doubtful. She thumbed over her shoulder at the door behind them.

"Why---"

"Just don't."

"So where can we go with the transporter?" asked Jerome.

"Anyplace. So… we can try the _Spirit_."

Cor gulped. "And-and… if we're wrong…"

Ellen sighed. "We'll probably have our atoms deconstructed, scattering our personal matter into the surrounding air."

"Alrighty. I'll go first."

"You really want to _do _that? Why?"

"I want to know what it's like to be atomically deconstructed."

Ellen Anders decided not to argue with this. She watched Cor saunter to the beam, pump the air and victoriously cry, "To the _Spirit of Fire_!"

And she disappeared.

"That worked, right?" asked Ellen nervously. "No Cor-particles in the air."

"Not that I know of," Cortana responded.

"Alright, who stays behind and primes the grenade?" asked Ellen.

Douglas raised a hand.

"I'll do it," he said confidently. Ellen nodded. "Alright," she said with a tone of finality. "Let's go."

And, one by one, they left the Halo ring, traveling at light speed to the _Spirit of Fire_.

* * *

The Bridge was empty.

The Flood were spreading across the Destroyer, through the air vents and maintenance tunnels. There was nothing to stop them; Jerry knew as soon as they breached the mainframe, they would turn the ship's weapons on the defenseless _Spirit of Fire_.

The Engineer hummed softly, sadly. Jerry looked at Card wearily, listening as the Covenant within the ship slowly met their doom.

"What do we do now?" he said softly, stroking Card's head. Card bowed his head and blinked his six eyes knowingly.

"Time to go out with a boom," Jerry whispered.

* * *

Captain Cutter watched the gas giant slowly grow smaller as they passed it. They continued at a constant speed, the ship vibrating slightly as they passed the tension of the gravity well.

"Serina. We're passing the giant. What's going on?"

The ship's AI appeared on the bridge holotank, her tiny figure frowning slightly. "There's been a change of plans, sir."

"Enlighten me."

Serina sighed explosively. "I've just intercepted a message from Jerry Zeroudian. The Destroyer's been infiltrated by the Flood. He… he has a plan."

The Captain looked at Serina, eyes narrowed. "Does he know what he'd doing?" he asked slowly.

Serina looked outside, gazing at the vast expanse of unrecognizable stars. When she looked at James Cutter, he could have sworn he saw the most sadness possible in her eyes. So sad, he almost thought he was looking at a living, breathing woman.

"Yes."

Silence resumed in the Bridge.

"There's too many dead heroes in this war…" Serina said thoughtfully.

* * *

Cor showed up on the cool, metal material of the _Spirit_'s interior. She stumbled but caught herself, searching the walls of the ship in disbelief. "No way!" she cried, laughing. "Yes!"

She cheered and rooted for a while longer, before realizing she was still alone. "Ellen?" she yelled. "Jerome? Chief?"

No one answered. Cor searched the walls for some sort of intercom, and when she found it, she keyed it and whispered:

"Serina?"

"Did you hear that?"

"No," responded Serina. "What was it?"

"I swore I heard---"

"Captain?" said the voice again.

"Find the source of that signal!" ordered Captain Cutter.

"The armory, sir. Voice matches Corrina Shaft."

"Get her here."

"Corrina, this is Serina."

The AI's voice came over the ship's speakers, echoing down the halls and in every room. Corrina felt her heart leap when she heard her.

"Oh god, Serina, you have no idea how good it is to hear you!" she breathed, listening to her voice in the speakers.

"Cor? Serina?"

Voices started to come in at every corner of the ship. Cor laughed.

"I think we found Red Team," she said.

When the team had been reunited, and Cortana was safely in the system, Serina explained Jerry's plan.

"The blue giant is _massive_," she began. "So massive, only a tad bit more mass and it will become a miniature brown sun. Unfortunately, it will be so unstable, it will collapse and destroy everything in it's path.

"This will destroy the ring, Offensive Bias, any involved Flood, and fortunately, not us--- we are nearing the safe zone now."

No one spoke. Instead, everyone turned and looked at Cor, who was surprisingly quiet. She looked away, her forelock of fire covering one eye. She coughed and looked back up.

"He's on his way now?" she asked shortly.

Serina could only nod.

Cor seemed capable of only this as well. She nodded like an obsessive bobble head, before stopping and leaving the Bridge.

"Alright, Jerry, you have green to go."

The sergeant grinned toughly, crossing his arms. "Aye captain. I would have done it anyway. Jerry out."

He disappeared, the connection was cut, and they felt the ship slow and turn. Behind them, the blue giant looked like an eye.

"Contact time: thirty seconds and counting," echoed Serina.

They watched.

"Twenty seconds and counting."

Cor coughed again.

"Ten seconds. Nine, eight…"

The Master Chief looked at Cor briefly.

"…seven, six, five…"

"…four…"

They could have heard a pin drop.

"…two…one."

For a second, the giant remained large and bulbous. Then a spot near the equator shimmered, and turned a deep brown. That brown spread across the giant like a swarm of locusts, consuming the giant until it transformed into contorted, angry brown sun that flickered with unstable sun flares until it got smaller and smaller, turning a sort of greenish color as it grew increasingly unstable, and then it _exploded_.

The massive combustion consumed everything--- Halo and Destroyer and all.

"It's time to go home," whispered someone.

**A/N: sorry this was so quick.**


	15. Epilogue

_On March 26, eleven years after the _Forward Unto Dawn _was announced officially missing in action, a ship entered Human-Covenant space._

_Remote Scanning Outpost _Tantalus _picked up the proper readings from Alpha probe, which came back positive. The human inhabitants on the outpost read the information in disbelief. One immediately contacted Admiral Hood, who was in so much disbelief that the nurse at the hospital had to put them on hold as Hood was calmed down._

_Red Team knew they would have a lot to get used to. This new galaxy would take a lot getting used to. They would probably be confined to Insurrectionist work._

_The Master Chief faced a similar fate. He hoped to find work where he could still fight for humanity; undoubtedly he would._

_Captain Cutter was at least eighty years old. He would appreciate a quiet, retired life on some colonist planet. No one would hear from him again._

_Serina wasn't rampant. She was metastable, like Cortana--- though persuading the Earth scientists wouldn't be easy. However, both AIs would have a team of Spartans on their side._

_The Arbiter went on to become a Peace Ambassador for the Sangheili race._

_As for Corrina Shaft? While the Outpost was watching the _Spirit of Fire_, another ship --- a Longsword Fighter --- dived past and into the dark beyond. Cor would disappear, off to do what she always did: pirating and possibly replacing a certain sword. There were no ship logs that gave proof to her existance. However, thirty years later, the Master Chief would find a token in his mail._

_A pair of cracked, orange-glassed, white-rimmed sunglasses._

**A/N: Thank you for keeping with me on my first story. I appreciate the feedback and this has been a real positive experience. As for future stories? Some stuff is in the works, folks. Once again, thanks a lot.**

**Until next time, I bid you farewell.**

**-Onsing**


End file.
